Quagmire
by kataja
Summary: As the Battle of Endor approaches a Jedi and a spy find themselves on common, boggy ground.
1. Chapter 1

**Quagmire - Chapter 1**

**Onerous secrets **

It emerged out of the blackness of space, shining like a white jewel against the darkness and the faintly winking stars, its smooth organic shape lending the huge ship almost the air of a living, breathing creature. _Home One;_ the pride of Mon Calamari's ship factories, the largest ship in the Rebel fleet; the heart of the Rebel Alliance.

"All right, Artoo" Luke said, taking a deep breath. "We're home."

The little astromech droid answered with a long series of happy beeps and twiddles, but Luke failed to follow the translation on his screen for the queer feeling that suddenly cramped his stomach with an intensity taking him quite aback. _Home…_

This was his base, his refuge. Here, where he'd finally been able to chase his dreams, where his friends were, here where he felt like home… Where he _had_ felt like home.

The churning feeling in his stomach just wouldn't go away. Why had so many things changed lately?

Luke squeezed the yoke, knowing for sure that he had never wanted it to happen. In one fatal moment his world had turned upside down, and from there the speed of change had raced out of his control. He was still stumbling to catch up.

. . .

It was with a deep sigh of relief that Luke finally set his feet on the docking floor. While he loved flying – truly, deeply – it was inevitable that the narrow size of the small starfighter made longer trips an uncomfortable experience.

Stretching aching arms and legs to ease cramping muscles, Luke hesitated a moment, wondering with a sting of disquiet whether he should help Artoo out by using the Force. The maintenance droid effectively relieved him of the decision by lifting the little astromech down to the deck, and Luke sighed again. It was strange, he reflected, that he was less keen to practice his Force abilities nowadays, when he actually had something to show. The eager young Luke of old wouldn't have hesitated a second, would happily have grabbed any chance to feel like a Jedi, not caring a whit about the attention. Well. Things had changed…

The little droid turned his sensors towards him, happily unaware of his master's troubles. His satisfied beeping caused Luke to smile again.

"Yeah, it's good to be back," he agreed. "But first of all I need a sanisteam and then I have a report to write. You just go ahead and find Threepio."

Artoo whistled a question and Luke's smile widened to a grin. "Sure, I think he's missed you too. Don't worry, I'll let you know if I need you."

The droid rolled off in one direction and Luke set off towards his cabin.

"Hey! Luke!"

The young Jedi turned at the call and his face lit up. "Wedge!"

The two friends bumped into a hearty embrace, slapping each other on the back.

"When did you return?" Luke asked. "It feels like an eternity since you left for Bilbringi."

Wedge made a face. "Certainly feels that way. I've just returned and believe me, the assignment wasn't nearly as easy as old Madine made out."

Luke grinned, his own troubles forgotten for a moment. "They never are, are they? Hey, I have a few stories to tell myself, but I might need a shower first."

"Good idea," Wedge nodded. "Let's –"

He was interrupted by a shrill whistle. Turning towards the sound the two friends spotted an approaching party of four pilots in orange flight suits. Sprinting in the lead was Wes Jansen, Rogue Six, arms flailing and a gleeful, alarming smile on his jester's face. "Boooooss!" he cried, setting course for Luke, his arms extended.

Luke grinned, raising his arms, but Wes passed him to give Wedge an energetic handshake instead. After eagerly pumping Wedge's arm for several seconds he stepped back to Luke, giving him the same treatment. "_Big_ Boss!" he beamed.

"Hey," Wedge groused, feigning insult. "Why do I always get to hear about those two centimeters he's taller?"

"To remind you that you're a loser, Antilles," Hobbie Klivian explained brightly, clapping his shoulder. Then he turned to his squad leader: "Hey, robot hand, what's up?" He and Luke exchanged their traditional high-lows with their respectively prosthetic hands; Hobbie's left, Luke's right.

Wedge grinned and greeted Tycho Celchu while Luke's attention was called to the fourth pilot, an auburn haired woman who'd stopped a few paces back, taking in the customary greeting rituals of the Rogues with a slight, knowing smile.

"Hi, Shira."

"Hey there, Ace," she replied, her light smile deepening to an infectious grin. "Now, please tell me I don't have a reason to get suspicious here!"

"Suspicious?" Luke echoed, quite lost. "About what?"

"Weell," Shira quipped. "We find the two of you" – she nodded at Luke and Wedge – "back at last from different missions, but at the very same time! Now _why_ do I get the feeling that you've been having a secret rendezvous somewhere at a cozy bar, drinking Red Dwarfs while the rest of us slaved on with our duties?"

"Uhm…" Luke tried to find an appropriate, presumably funny, answer but Shira just laughed and raised her arms.

"Welcome back, Ace!" Without waiting for an invitation she stepped straight to Luke and gave him a hug that was big enough to make him blush heavily and the men around them to snicker loudly.

"Just you wait until you've been sanisteamed, Luke," Hobbie grinned. "Then the girls simply won't let go anymore. You'll have to use that Force of yours to peel them off."

"Hey," Wes exclaimed, mimicking a female voice. "I want a hug too!"

"To you that's 'I want a hug, _sir,'"_ Wedge corrected him sternly.

"I want a hug, _sir_." Wes copied, still in falsetto. When Luke complied, he pulled back pinching his nose in disgust. "Phew! How can she hug you? You stink like a wet Bantha!"

"That's because I've flown for four days without washing — _or_ changing clothes," Luke clarified dryly, silently wondering if Shira had thought he smelled too. "Besides, the common expression is to 'stink like a wet Wookiee'. Banthas don't get wet, Wes. They live on Tatooine."

"What would I know, _sir?_" Wes tossed him a lazy smirk. "Never been there, never going either."

Tycho Celchu grinned. "Actually, Wedge, you were more right than you knew a moment ago Things have been happening while you were away." He glanced at Shira.

"What do you mean?" Wedge demanded but Luke was already breaking into a smile, guessing the answer even before Shira replied.

"Commander Brie at your services, gentlemen," she told them with an exaggarated salute. "Admiral Gelsk signed my promotion two days ago. For old times' sake, you may still remain seated in my presence."

"Congratulations!" Luke cried and Wedge chimed in. "That's wonderful – and fully deserved! But doesn't that mean that you won't be flying Rogue anymore?"

Shira made a face. "Well, that's the tragic part of it. I'll be leaving you boys in a few days and probably even pull a few with me. Alliance High Command is mustering at full might at the moment."

"Oh, no," Wedge moaned. "That means we'll be training rookies again."

"That means you're getting your own squad! " Luke exclaimed, ignoring Wedge. "Congratulatios!

"Well, I know I'll miss you guys, but getting a squad of my own makes up for it somewhat." Shira grinned. "And there are other, more subtle benefits. For example I now outrank all of you loosers." She let her thumb sweep at Wedge, Wes, Hobbie and Tycho.

"Some people have ambitions," Wes sniffed, "some of us others have common sense. The trick is how to get all the fun of flying but none of the responsibility. We'll see how you like those new bars of yours after your first post-action reports comes due. Enjoy your flimsiwork, _Commander_." He shook his finger pointedly.

Shira laughed. "Oh, but there's another benefit about leaving the Rogues too. Even better than outranking you guys is that I won't be anyone's subordinate anymore." She tilted her head slightly, her green-flecked eyes dancing to meet Luke's, and a slow smile spread over her face.

"Aija jaija" Wes muttered, rolling his eyes. Everyone knew that Shira had been setting her cap for Luke for ages now.

Luke shifted, very uncomfortable now. "Uhm, that sanisteam…"

Taking pity on his friend, Wedge grabbed Luke firmly by the arm and dragged him away. "Make way! Make way for the stinking banthas!" he exclaimed theatrically.

Just as they were about to leave the docking bay , Luke started and glanced over his shoulder.

"What's the matter?" Wedge inquired, glancing worriedly at him.

"I… nothing," Luke murmured. "Nothing."

But it was. Something. And it wasn't the first time he'd sensed it.

. . .

After the bliss of the sanisteam, it was perfect to just sit down in peace and quiet in Wedge's cabin. The beer tasted divinely too. They lounged for a long while, sipping their bottles and trading stories from their respective missions, simply enjoying the peace and the company.

Luke leaned back in his chair, trying to stretch out muscles that still ached from too many hours in the cockpit. He sighed and closed his eyes.

"No sign of Han yet?" Wedge asked quietly.

Luke shook his head. He had commed Leia even before the sanisteam, and they'd agreed to meet the next morning. She'd been happy to hear from him but had no news.

"Last I heard was that Chewie and Lando would try Jabba's Palace on Tatooine again," he told Wedge. "I have no idea why they didn't take Han there in the first place, though – Boba Fett has been crossing the galaxy for months…"

"Maybe they couldn't agree on the price?"

"Probably." Luke eyed his beer thoughtfully.

He had been on Tatooine several times the past few months, trying to keep himself up to date with the events, but had gleaned baberly any information. Instead he had used the opportunity to visit Ben Kenobi's old home, where he'd found quite a lot of material concerning the Jedi. Included had been directions to build a new lightsaber. Luke pursed his lips, remembering how he'd tinkered with the weapon for hours in the badly lit old cottage, his trouble to find spare parts and his devastating nervousness when he'd switched it on for the first time; Ben's instructions had also included stories of poorly constructed lightsabers that had exploded, taking their constructors with them…

"Your mind's flying."

"Huh?" Luke glanced up and something in the way he looked, suddenly flustered and off-guard, reminded Wedge of that wide-eyed, open kid he'd first met, years ago. The Corellian felt a pang of sadness at the thought. That eager boy had held his own through hardships and battles, through disappointments and loss of comrades – yet suddenly, just like that, that boy had been gone, nobody knowing why.

He'd been replaced with a still stumbling but oh-so-serious young man; a man who kept his thoughts close to himself and who had secrets so dark that everyone, Force-sensitive or not, could feel them. A man who was as much introvert, insular and unnerving an enigma as the open-eyed young kid had been everybody's darling, hero and goldenboy of the Alliance. Sometimes - ofttimes actually - Wedge had the feeling that, aside from his very closest friends, Rogue Squadron was the only company where Luke still could relax; the only company that accepted the changes in him without questions. But even that wasn't so easy anymore, was it?

"I just said," he repeated evenly, leaning back in his chair, "that your mind is flying again. Of course that's pretty appropriate for a pilot, but…"

"Ha ha." Luke gave him a dry a suspicious glance. "What, Wedge?"

"Naah…nothing special, I guess… Just something I've been thinking of for a while…"

For a brief instant, Luke looked wearily at him. Then his impatience took over and he waved the bottle of beer. "What, Wedge?"

Wedge pursed his lips, giving himself plenty of time to answer. "I was just wondering," he finally drawled, trying hard to keep his voice casual, "what you're thinking about our lovely, red haired, soon-to-be ex-Squadron Mate, Shira Brie."

He watched Luke close up tighter than a Mon Calamari oyster, but then, that was about what he'd expected. Wedge plowed on, hoping silently he wasn't digging too much. "Miss Brie's been hitting on you for a long time, but you've kept giving her the brush off. Well, she's been your subordinate and all so I understand that. But now she's about to become allowed territory, right? Won't that change your attitude somewhat? I know you like her… And it's plain obvious that she likes you."

"Why the hurry? Were you planning to make a move on her yourself?" Luke muttered evasively.

"Nope, we're an entire squadron, trying to keep her reserved just for you, "Wedge deadpanned. "But we'd like some confirmation that we're not doing it all in vain – or that you at least appreciate our suffering and sacrifices."

Luke fidgeted with his beer, wishing Wedge wouldn't have asked. How was he to make sense out of what he could tell? Whatever feelings he might have were so utterly overshadowed by issues he couldn't share with anyone.

'_I am your father…'_

There were too many things Luke couldn't reveal.

But now Wedge had asked. No one normally asked these kinds of questions. Only old friends – out of concern. Blast old friends!

"Look," he began wearily. "Shira's…great. She really is but –"

"Do you fancy her, or do you not fancy her?" Wedge remained on target as always.

"Of course I fancy her. Stars! Do you think I'm blind or something?"

"Fine! So what's the problem? I know you don't go for one-night stands but everyone needs a little fun now and then. Especially in our line of work! Look, Shira knows how it is; you wouldn't even have to explain. Buy her a beer and get talking. And if some of that talk turns out to be horizontal, well, that's what happens. She'll enjoy it and you'll enjoy it, so no harm done, right?

"And then we go on to our shifts and one of us gets shot down 'cause we hadn't closed an eye the entire night," Luke grumbled.

Wedge rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Luke. It would probably do you a galaxy of good. You've been wound up tighter than a Twi'lek's thong since Hoth."

"You know I'm not for one-nighters."

"Hey, this is Shira we're talking about. She's got both boobs and brains – and you wouldn't _have _to dump her afterwards! Hell, even _I _would think twice before I'd dump her!" Wedge paused a moment to consider on the truthfulness of the last statement, but decided it wasn't _that_ far from reality.

"I dunno Wedge," Luke hesitated, searching for some reason that might make sense. "Sometimes I can't pin her down. It's like she – well, like she changes, somehow."

"What do you mean? I thought she was the most straightforward person alive? Outgoing, approachable, sociable…"

Wedge stated the obvious, of course, and Luke wavered. Probably it _was_ just his own imagination. "Well, I'm not exactly sociable myself…"

"She would do you good, Luke!"

Luke sighed, knowing any male with his intact senses would think he was being a idiot. He tried another tactic. "Look, I know this sounds stupid, and that many people don't really believe in these things, but… I really have all that stuff about my Jedi education on my mind. There's a lot of that filling my head. And it should too…. I simply _have_ to use my energy on it. As soon as we've rescued Han, I'll have to take off again and finish what I've started. There's no way I can see myself in a relationship right now."

Wedge nodded, his expression turning severe. This he could understand, at least part of the way. Luke and his Jedi thing had been inseparable as long as Wedge had known him. Of late, though, Luke had stopped talking loudly about it, even refusing to reveal where he'd received that extra training he obviously had. Wedge knew that most people didn't believe in the Force - and even worse, many people looked askance at the Jedi. Palpatine's twenty-year propaganda campaign had done its work. Even among the Rebels, many thought the Force fine and dandy as long as it was used to blow up imps and occasional Death Stars; in all other circumstances it triggered mistrust and fear. Wedge had heard the murmurs in the corridors, had seen the glances, and he didn't like it one bit. Especially not when it was his boss who was the target of them.

"I've actually been wondering why you haven't left yet. I mean, I know you want to save Han first, but as long as that's dragging out…?" Wedge had meant the question as an encouragement but Luke looked away, clearly reluctant to talk about this too.

"I felt bad about leaving," Luke muttered avoiding his gaze. "Leia…" He trailed off.

Wedge frowned at his last words, a suspicion suddenly occurring to him. The Princess? Was she the answer to more than one question here? After all, Luke had also been smitten with the Princess all the time Wedge had known him.

"It's not what you think." Luke shook his head, guessing his friend's thoughts. "Leia is with Han now. And we're still friends. Closer than before, even, but only friends." He smiled a bit sheepishly. "I'm over her. Almost at least. I feel a little like a loser from time to time, but that's about it. It's merely my pride that hurts."

Luke paused again, irresolute. Should he tell Wedge about the strange feeling he'd had – that of being watched, the feeling of danger that he'd felt, also in Leia's presence? Should he tell him that he'd easily be crazy about Shira – if he hadn't been convinced that a relationship with _anybody_ would be about the worst thing to start right now? Should he tell Wedge of his suspicions that Leia didn't like Shira, though he couldn't figure out why, couldn't find out whether it was true even? Or should he go whole hog, start talking about his own messed up feelings, about his fears, should he reveal who he might be…

No. Luke shrank at the very thought. Wedge wanted to help, but he believed Luke's problems were much more straightforward than they were. A good friend wasn't enough here. This was Luke's own call.

_I am your father…_

Luke knew he had too many reasons not to get close to Shira, nor to leave for Dagobah, and deep down he didn't want to look too closely at any of them. He would have to anyway, sooner or later…. but not just yet. Not just yet.

Wedge shrugged. "It's your desicion, mate," he said glibly. "And your love life too. I just want to point out that Shira's practically drawling for you. And with her drive I don't think she'll yield until she's gotten her way."

Luke gave him an awkward look and Wedge couldn't resist adding: "She wants your body, Luke. You might as well enjoy hers while she takes it. Cheers!"

. . .

In his cabin that evening, the dark thoughts came to haunt him again. Those thoughts, that were present all the time now, whether he was sleeping or awake; only hard work could push them aside for a while.

_I am your father._

No! Not Vader! Not_ Vader_!

The claim of the Dark Lord had turned upside down Luke's whole mindset, his entire existence. If Vader had spoken the truth… then everything Luke had believed in the past four years, everything he had burned for and breathed for, everything he'd built his existence on, was a lie.

Or was it?

_I am your father._

Who would be able to accept it? Could even Leia?

So many times Luke had considered opening himself to her. Yet, if she would turn her back to him, not only would he lose her, but she would lose him too, lose yet one more person she cared for, as if she hadn't lost enough already. Luke couldn't put that on her. Maybe when Han was back…

But what if Leia would still turn her back on him? What if she _should_? If Luke was tainted with the Dark Side…wasn't he then a possible threat to his friends?

If Darth Vader really was his father, could Luke then be predestined to follow the same dark path? Yoda had warned him of the Dark Path - and Luke knew he had felt the touch of Darkness at Bespin – was it now forever to direct his destiny?

Shadows, shadows everywhere – and that feeling of eyes watching, guarding...

If Vader had told the truth, that was. Vader could have been lying…

Had Ben lied?

Why had he lied?

Why was Luke believing the words of the most evil creature of the galaxy rather than those of Ben Kenobi, whom he'd known all his life?

Yet, the thing was, that Luke had actually never known Kenobi. He had only met the old man a few times in his life before Ben saved him from the Sand People that fateful day almost four years ago. Ben had just seemed so… believable. He had helped Luke. He'd had faith in him. Had shown him the way, made him yearn to be a Jedi Knight.

What if the truth was quite different? What if Ben had simply been using Luke's ignoranceand naivité for his own purposes, aware of Luke's abilities and his own weakness?

Still, Ben had led Luke to Leia, to the Alliance. His spirit had helped Luke at Yavin and in countless other situations, most lately at Hoth where he had told Luke to find Yoda.

Yoda – the great Jedi Master. Yoda, who finally had proved to Luke that his belief in the Force wasn't pure imagination. Who had taught Luke the ways of the Jedi.

Yoda – who Luke had failed and left before he had been able to complete his training, because he in his stupidity had thought that he could save the galaxy. Well his friends at any rate, and he hadn't even managed that!

Yoda – who had told Luke that once he entered the Dark Path there was no way back… Was it already too late?

_I am your father_.

Did Yoda know?

Somehow, Luke was convinced that the old master had the answers. Even so, he hadn't managed to pull himself together and return to Dagobah yet. The search for Han had become his excuse to postpone the confrontation with a truth he knew he had to face.

Whatever truth that was.

Wearily he shoved the thoughts aside. It was time for him to sleep now. Soon they would rescue Han, and then he would return to Yoda.

Still, he knew that as soon as he fell asleep he would find himself in the shrieking air shaft on Bespin, exhausted, battered and nearly paralyzed by pain, Vader before him, claiming his soul.

Or in that dark, dank cave on Dagobah where Vader any minute would appear before him. He would attack, Luke would parry and counter-attack, Vader's head would roll to his feet and the mask and helmet open up with a ghastly screech, revealing Luke's own face. And that, he knew, was the ultimate threat; what he could become himself. The fear of that possible future hobbled him, haunted him and he didn't know where to find the strength to face it. He always woke up soaked in sweat after those dreams.

Fortunately there was a remedy for dreams, at least.

He took a deep breath and reached out for the Force. Instantly, it surrounded him, cooling and warming at the same time, protecting him and making him aware of the Universe itself. He wrapped himself into the life-giving, strengthening energy and let himself slip into blissful peace and oblivion.

. . .

Hours later, Luke was torn away from his sleep by the summoning of the door com. He threw a glance at the chrono. He had only managed to sleep for a few short hours. Who could it be this early?

_Yay! Great Jedi, Skywalker!_ He mocked himself and hurried to reach out with his senses. Realizing who was behind the door, he lurched up to open it.

Princess Leia almost stormed in. Her normally elaborate hair was scraped back in a dishelved ponytail, but her brown eyesradiated. "Luke!"

Luke took in her mood and in the same moment he knew.

"They've found him!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Quagmire**

Chapter 2 - Moving out

Early next morning, Luke was pulling on his boots, only half dressed in trousers, when his door com buzzed.

"Come in," he yelled without thinking.

"Hi Ace."

Luke jumped in surprise. It was the last person he'd expected. "Er, hi Shira."

Hands clasped behind her back, Shira strode briskly into his cabin, tilting her head in approval as she took in Luke's shirtless state. "Well, well," she stated blithely. "I see that I didn't wake you. You're up early?"

Luke scrambled to find his composure. Shira had never been in his cabin before. Suddenly the space felt very cramped, her eyes and movements seeming to fill it all. "Yeah, uh, I… hey, wait a minute! Did you expect to find me sleeping here?"

"Maybe I was hoping to," she suggested, letting her eyes run impishly over Luke's exposed torso. "I think I was, yeah."

Luke swallowed, searching for a reply, but it escaped him. Their eyes locked as Shira slowly started to move closer, causing Luke almost to backstep. He caught himself, provoked with his own lack of resolve. He wasn't exactly threatened here, he reminded himself, and if Shira wanted to come closer he might as well see what her next move would be…

Images of her 'next move' immediately started to flash through his mind and his mouth went completely dry. Shira's expression was a strange mixture of playful amusement and commitment. Now she was at armslength from him, gods, how her lips looked alluring, why had he never noticed it before? He could feel, actually _feel_ the curves of her body against his own even though he wasn't touching her - even though he was forcing himself to not so much as look at it!

Tugging her hand up from behind her back, Shira held a datacard up to his nose. "The trouble is; Admiral Gelsk said this couldn't wait."

"Huh? Oh!" Luke accepted the card automatically. Shira was already stepping back, turning to smile easily at him over her shoulder.

Luke's returning smile came much more effortlessly now that she was a few paces away. He waved the datapad in the air, knowing it to be his official absence-from-duty permit; he'd sent the request in last night with Leia's recommendation. "Thanks."

Shira tilted her head, graciously. "You're welcome. Care to join me for breakfast when you're decent?"

Luke shook his head. "Sorry, no."

"You're no fun," Shira sighed, clicking her tongue. "And Rebel Girls Rule Number Four states that men who aren't fun will have to pay."

Luke couldn't help grinning. "Pay? Uh oh. May I ask in what manner?"

"Hmm. Let's see." She pursed her lips. "The retribution must correspond to the offence, of course. Since you refuse to join me for breakfast, the evident consequence would be that you take me to dinner."

"Dinner?" Luke echoed, not believing his ears. "On _Home One_? Where? The mess?"

Shira shrugged. "Why not? Or in your cabin, I don't care. What I want is to be able to dress up in something other than these horrid coveralls." She picked at her utensils with obvious dissatisfaction.

Luke thought she looked terrific—she always did, no matter what she wore—and for a moment he considered telling her so. Then he thought better of it. Even though Shira's promotion had put them on a level playing field, he'd better not add fuel to the flames, especially not as he was about to deliver another disappointment.

"Okay," he told her. "But I'm afraid it will have to wait a while. I'll be leaving as soon as I've dressed. Chewie and Lando have found Han."

Shira caught her breath. "Hey, that's wonderful news! Where is he? How did they find him?"

Unexpectedly, Luke felt a strange hesitation in the back of his mind. He trusted Shira, of course he did… yet… The Empire was on Luke's heels as well as Leia's, it had spies everywhere, even here on _Home One,_ and the fewer who knew anything about their plans, the better.

"Yeah, it's great, isn't it?" he said instead. "But I'm afraid that I don't have any details yet. I only received the message last night. Within a few hours I'll be much wiser."

"Within a few hours you'll be gone," Shira retorted.

That was his point, of course, but Shira looked so disappointed that Luke couldn't stop himself from mellowing. "Hey," he muttered, touching her arm. "The sooner I leave, the sooner I'll be back. And then you'll get all the details."

She tilted her head, a twinkle in her eyes revealing that she was prepared to bargain. "That would be _all_ of them? And from you?"

Luke laughed. "If you don't fall asleep first."

"Not a chance! I'll hold you to that, Ace. _And_ the dinner!"

He glanced at her soft, velvety mouth and got a sudden, mad urge to make a move, regardless of all his determination to the contrary. He leaned towards her and caught her keen surprise as their lips closed in. Then panic lurched again and he craned his head just enough to hit her cheek instead. Shira, however, didn't pull back and Luke had to give her another quick kiss to retain the initiative. It hit somewhere between her mouth and chin before he hurried to withdraw.

Their eyes locked and she raised her chin slightly, clearly not sure if she should be pleased or disappointed. Luke tried frantically to find an appropriate comment to close the matter. "Watch the shop while I'm away, ok?" _Oh, gods, Skywalker! That was the lousiest, most clichéd line ever…_

But instead of upbraiding him she just smiled; a slow smile that he could feel all the way down to his stomach. "I will. If you promise to hurry back, ok?"

"I will," Luke managed. "Take care."

"You too, Ace." She left with a final, intense look over her shoulder and Luke hurried off to dress and pack. He could still feel her smile and gaze upon him all the way down to his ship. Not before he had started the engines of the X-wing he realized that he should have said 'May the Force be with you,' instead of that perpetual 'take care.'

Some Jedi he was.

...

Sitting around the familiar and comfortable holochess table in the Millenium Falcon's main hold, Luke, Leia and Chewie went through the rescue plan for the umpteenth time. They had rendezvoused at Ben Kenobi's old home on Tatooine, but as the afternoon heat crept through the worn-down mudwalls of the cottage, they had chosen to withdraw to the Falcon, by far the coolest place available.

Ben's cottage was the perfect base for their rescue mission, located as it was on the plateau bordering the Western Dune Sea. It wasn't far from the B'omarr monastery that Jabba had chosen as his residence, but it was desolate and still far enough away for them to dare setting down their spacecraft.

After several hours of hard work and heated discussions, the three friends had finally agreed on the details of the plan. Luke leaned back in his chair with a tired sigh. Leia could be a magnificent nitpicker when she wanted, he reflected fondly. Perhaps that was a part of her training as a politician? Anyway, it had resulted in a plan that was, if not exactly water-thight, then at least not impossible either. The only thing that nagged Luke was that Leia would be staying overnight in the palace, disguised as a bounty hunter. Lando was presumably already in position, infiltrated among Jabba's guards.

As he stretched his arms over his head, Luke faced Threepeo's darkened eyes. Strangely, they seemed even emptier than ever before, staring out from his immobile, golden features. They had been forced to turn the protocol droid off when they'd realized how vital his role would be in the rescue mission. It was essential that Threepeo remained completely unaware of his real function - none of them nourished the illusion that there was an actor hidden somewhere deep below those golden plates.

Chewie rose and growled that he would start working on the camouflage of the ships. Leia nodded her agreement. "Go ahead. I think we've covered everything by now."

Luke smiled briefly. "You actually believe that?" he wondered casually when the Wookie had left.

Leia chuckled. "Nah, it would be first time, wouldn't it?"

"Definitely the first time!" Luke grinned. "Well, when things start to go wrong I guess we'll just have to improvise."

He sensed a flicker of emotion from the Princess and turned his head towards her. She looked away, but Luke detected something more from her. Under normal circumstances he would never pry in his friends' thoughts, but this was too important. He stretched out towards Leia's mind. Before he reached it, he knew what she was thinking and sat straight up in his chair. "No! You're not!"

Leia's delicate features turned to those of a female gundark in a nanosecond. "Luke Skywalker! Don't you dare read my mind!"

"I don't have to," Luke snorted. "I know you well enough. You were going to try to free Han on your own!"

Leia straightened her royal spine. "Correction. I _am _going to try to free Han on my own. That is, if I judge circumstances to be favorable when I arrive at the palace."

"Oh no, you're not!"

"You can't stop me, Luke." Leia's chin was set at its most stubborn angle and her eyes shone with dogged determination.

"Oh, yes I can. I just have to tell Chewie about your little scheme, and he'll handcuff you to the _Falcon_'s landing struts just like Han would want him to!"

Leia's eyes flashed in alarm. "You're _not _telling Chewie!" she barked.

Luke smiled and crossed his arms. "No, not if you give your word of honor that you won't try any funny tricks by yourself at the palace."

Leia bit her lip and looked away. Luke could feel her emotions swirl. As he carefully reached out for her in the Force he was a bit thrown off by how powerful they actually were. "It's far too dangerous, Leia," he murmured, trying another tack. "Think about it. If Jabba caught you…"

Leia turned to glare at him. "Then what?" she challenged. "He might kill me? Well, he sure will try that at _some_ point of this mission. But if I could get Han out quietly in the middle of the night, then at least _you _wouldn't risk your life. And to tell the truth, it's _your_ part that I'm most worried about!"

"Leia…"

"Jabba will not allow the Jedi to rise again. They always were a restriction to the Hutts and you, as a Tatooine native, would have far too much interest in this Region. Besides, he's so ticked off with Han that your friendship with him made you Jabba's enemy long ago. If he gets his hands on you he'll kill you without thinking twice. You knowthat, Luke, and that's part of what we count on in our plan. But if Jabba catches me, he'll only…only…" She turned her head away.

Luke's stomach turned in despair. All the things Jabba might do to Leia, or have others do to her, were beyond his imagination, but unfortunately not beyond his knowledge. "Leia," he tried again.

"I'm not afraid!" Leia turned to face him again, looking him straight in the eye. "And I don't want you afraid for me either. We're all at risk here. Well, we aren't exactly new to that, are we? You don't have to give your blessing, but I claim my right to improvise just as much as you will. May I remind you that you've never asked my advice when carrying out any of _your _reckless ideas? I know very well that if you'll find it necessary, you'll try to improvise yourself!"

Luke sighed. Leia was right, of course. It was just that… this was Leia. He felt a protectiveness for her like for no one else. Always had. He couldn't simply dismiss it.

"I've really tried to grow beyond recklessness these past months, Leia," he countered persuasively. "I'd be very sorry if you picked up that mantle. Chewie would be sorry too - and Lando. And you know who'd be the most sorry of all, don't you? Imagine how Han would feel if we'd rescue him but you wouldn't be there. Leia, try to imagine how..."

"Oh, shut up!"

For a moment they remained in troubled silence. Then Leia let out a muffled sound and burst out of her seat. Luke straightened in his chair and in the next moment Leia was in his arms. She slipped right onto his lap, laced her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder. Luke pushed his surprise aside and wrapped his arms gently around her, holding her to his chest. Leia's body started to convulse violently and almost reluctantly she begun to cry. He stroked her hair and mumbled small words of comfort. She was his very own Princess and he comforted her as he would comfort a child.

They had always been close but somehow, after Leia had heard his mental plea for help months ago outside Cloud City, their bond had grown even stronger. At least Luke felt that way, and he was convinced that Leia felt the same.

The strange thing was, they had never really talked about it, never dared to tread the difficult path of their feelings towards each other. Only months ago Luke and Han had, half jokingly, half seriously, been in competition for Leia's love. Then Han had won her heart and Luke had sidestepped, without hesitation, without questions. Leia was aware of this, of course, but still she had to be as uncertain about where that left the two of them as he was. That she could come to him for comfort like this moved him deeply.

After a considerable time, Leia stopped shivering. By then Luke's tunic was soaked at the shoulder. Slowly, the Princess straightened up and dried her eyes. "Sorry about that. I…"

"Don't apologize, Leia." Luke let his thumb brush the wet trails from her velvety soft cheek. "If I can be of any help, any help at all, I'm only glad and honored."

"Oh, nonsense! 'Honored'…" Leia mumbled and wiped the last tears away. "Luke, sometimes you're so respectful that …" She shook her head.

Luke peered furtively at her. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Oh, you know what I mean!" Leia made an impatient gesture.

"You should know what I mean, too," Luke replied softly.

All of a sudden, Leia looked uncertain. She stirred and Luke realized that she was still sitting on his lap. He let go of her and she slipped quickly back into her own chair.

For a moment the comfortable atmosphere between them seemed to slip away and Luke bit his lip. How could he love someone like a sister when she _wasn't _his sister? He yearned to tell Leia that she was the sweetest, most brave and admirable girl he'd ever met. That he loved her and never wanted to lose her. Part of him almost wished that he didn't love her quite so much. Luke had absolutely no idea how Han would take all of this. Would the proud, self-sufficient Corellian be able to contain his jealousy or would something finally come between the three friends who had gone through so much together?

Was it even possible that their friendship could go back to what it had been?

_I am your father…_

His friends were all he had. He didn't want to lose them - couldn't afford to lose them! Especially not Leia!

"You can turn so serious these days," Leia murmured.

Luke started and met her eyes, so full of concern. He smiled bashfully. "Sorry, I…"

"It's ok." She paused, her mild mahogany eyes piercing into his. "Something's been nagging at you, hasn't it?"

Luke sighed. 'Something' seemed like the understatment of the millennia. "Well, yes. A number of things, really…" he muttered.

Leia didn't shift her gaze, and Luke felt forced to continue. "It seems like so many things are coming after us. The Empire wants us dead or worse. There's my Jedi training… I have to take it up again at some point. And that has to be soon. I should leave after we've rescued Han, really. I don't know if anyone but you will be able to understand it – I mean, Gelsk was mad at me already for going away after Hoth - I don't want to lose all everything I've gained these last years; the Alliance, the cause we have, the solidarity… And I don't want to lose _you_, Leia. You mean so much to me, you and our friendship…yet, sometimes it all seems so fragile…"

It should have been easier to talk to Leia than to Wedge. Instead Luke found himself sidestepping the real problem once again.

Leia shuddered. "Stop it, Luke. Nothing will come between us! I know it won't! And of course you have to follow your path, I'll support that anytime, against Gelsk or anyone else. Also you should know…You should know that you mean an awful lot to me too, Luke."

He smiled, a wave of reassurance flowing through him at her words, despite his knowledge that she only saw the surface of his worries. "I know. But I'm happy to hear you say it anyway."

Did he know? Yes, he did. But before she said it, he hadn't known he did.

Still, it haunted him… "Do you think people will understand…?" How could they, when he didn't understand a bit of it himself?

Leia set her jaw. "They'll have to. It's that easy."

Luke nodded. But he knew in his heart it wouldn't be easy at all.

. . .

"Of course, Master Luke. I understand. You can have complete confidence in us."

Threepio almost beamed with self-importance as he turned to his counterpart. "Come on, Artoo. We'd better hurry. Master Luke has entrusted us with this assignment and I'm sure he wants it done as quickly and efficiently as possible."

Luke shook his head, smiling softly as the two droids headed off. Beside him, Leia struggled to suppress her grin until they had disappeared behind the sandbanks. She reached up to pat his shoulder reassuringly. "They'll manage just fine, Luke. Don't you worry."

"I'm not worried about _them_, Leia," Luke countered quietly, eyes still on the two droids disappearing between the sandbanks. "You should know that by now."

Leia flexed her neck uncomfortably, but the way her jaw was set, Luke knew that the matter was settled. Instead of pursuing, he let it go with a sigh, and craned his head to give her a wry smile. "However, I'm seriously worried about Threepio's circuits when he hears the message. I still can't help feeling pretty evil, setting him up like that."

"He should be thankful," Leia countered. "If it was Han, he actually _would _give him to Jabba." She grinned wickedly and with a final squeeze of his shoulder, she turned and walked into the _Falcon_.

With sensor jammers activated and neatly covered with a camo-net, both the _Falcon_ and Luke's X-wing were not only invisible to sensors, they were also hardly detectable with the eye, even up close. Chewie was running a final but completely unnecessary check on the nets.

Luke stood watching the endless sand dunes where the droids had already disappeared. How strange it was to be back! He'd spent the first nineteen years of his life watching dunes just like these, a bit further east across the desert. Not that the dunes looked the same to a trained eye, not at all. Luke could still spot the differences as easily as any local. However, he'd also gained so much distance that he could understand why the desert looked all the same for a newcomer. It felt odd somehow, like a double perspective. Like he was standing with both feet in different worlds. He saw everything through a distance and it wasn't as he remembered it. Certainly not like home anymore.

His life had changed completely the past years, and he with it. Everything he'd clung to since he'd left Tatooine had been challenged, every hope, every belief. Sometimes Luke found himself wondering if even the Force that he'd put his trust in so fiercely the past four years wasn't in fact as much a danger as a help. What if the path Luke had chosen could transform him into a threat towards the friends he wanted to save? How could he know? Yoda had told him to trust the Force, but he had also warned him…and he'd been reluctant to train Luke… If Vader had been telling the truth, then his father had lost his path; couldn't Luke lose his too? Luke had never been convincing as a Jedi in the first place. Yoda wouldn't even have agreed to train him unless Ben had persuaded him…

Lost in his thoughts, Luke let his feet had taken him back to Ben's house, well preserved for the past four years by the dry desert air. Neither Tusken raiders nor Jawas had found their way to the house yet; there were no signs of plundering, and no sense of them in the Force. Perhaps pleasant old Ben had appeared so frightening to them that they still didn't dare approach his home? Good old Ben — who might have lied to Luke about the most important thing in his life. Yet without Ben he wouldn't be the man he was now. Probably wouldn't even be alive.

As Luke contemplated the paradoxes, it suddenly struck him that it wasn't only intruders he couldn't sense in the Force, but hardly the man who'd lived here for so long either. He hadn't noticed before. Ben had always struck Luke as so reliable, so convincing… and so alive despite his age! It seemed strange that his home for so many years would be devoid of memories.

Determined, Luke reached out more intensely with his senses. He could sense _something_, like the echo of the lowest whisper, a ghostly shadow of the hardly visible. A sadness, a resignation, and below that - though he could hardly know whether it was layers or only his own imagination seeing it as such - guilt, pain; both worn out by time, tempered with resignation. Luke frowned, concentrated, but couldn't bring anything more out from the stone floor and mudwalls; they were silent to him. It was as though their inhabitant never used the Force, never stirred up his feelings, had contemplated death more than cherished life.

Finding no help from the past, Luke brought his mind back to the present and could sense Chewie approaching. He smiled as the great Wookiee appeared, doubled over to squeeze through the door. Chewie tilted his furry head and barked a question, his blue eyes bright and friendly in that hairy and otherwise unsettling face.

"Not really," Luke confessed. "I only was here once, so it never became anything special to me. Only as Ben's home. I was just…" He hesitated. "Well, I dunno. Looking for good advice, I think, some kind of guidance.

He glanced a bit self-consciously at his friend but Chewie seemed to both understand and accept. He grumbled another question.

"I guess so." Luke mumbled. "Yeah, I'm kind of worried."

He turned to leave, at the same time focusing back at the looming mission ahead. "Mostly for Leia I guess, but of course for you and Lando too. Me too, obviously." He made a face. "If Jabba doesn't jump on this Jedi thing… The entire plan depends on that he feels threatened personally – and that sort of worries me…"

The Wookiee grumbled. Luke flushed. "Well, I mean that if he only sees a farm kid instead of a mighty Jedi Knight he might just offer me to the Empire instead of going for a glorious execution - and in that case I'm not sure I can get you guys out of the palace – probably not even out of the cells…"

Chewie whuffed and Luke smiled. "Thanks. I can't say I _feel_ that way, though…"

Chewie whuffed again, ruffing his hair and Luke opened his mouth to tell him that he'd try, but closed it again.

There was no try.

He would _have_ to do fine.


	3. Chapter 3

**Quagmire **

Chapter 3 - In Jabba's Palace

Mara Jade didn't care much for her new room. Wrinkling her nose, she let her eyes slowly wander over the scarce, dull furnishings and dusty walls of the former cell in the old Monastery, finding only one good thing to say about it: it was a single room. On further reflection, she decided that the likely reason why a dancing girl was allowed such a luxury was even more disgusting than the room itself. No matter how professionally objective she prided herself on being, she loathed the idea of prostituting herself in order to keep her cover – and Jabba the Hutt's Palace held nothing but the galaxy's worst collection of creeps!

Mara shrugged the unsavory thought away, confident that the problem wouldn't arise on this mission. According to her information, her target would arrive soon. She could easily keep the eager or the curious away from her for a few days. And when the target was eliminated, she would vanish again without a trace. Like she always did.

She opened her bags and nimbly began to transfer their contents into the dusty closet of the room. The fact that she'd be leaving in a few days was not supposed to be common knowledge, after all. Tracing a finger over a shelf, she wrinkled her nose again. The thin gray layer wasn't dust but fine, powdery sand. A thought struck her and she stepped to the bed, pulling back the sheets. Sand again! Everywhere on this blasted planet. Mara made a foul face as the solitude enticed some private feelings to break through her meticulous composure. Skywalker had better arrive soon!

Being a light traveller, it didn't take her long to move in. Still in no hurry to be introduced to her new boss, she entertained herself with lining up her cosmetics into a veritable battery, complete with ranks and files, on the small table. With a small sting of annoyance she realized that she probably wouldn't be able to bring back her cosmetics from this mission either. A pity, really. She had spent some time making the brand new beauty implements look used and well worn.

Running out of things to arrange, Mara contemplated her reflection in the dusty mirror. Her dress was skin-tight and revealing, just as it should be. It had a fair amount of glitter stitched onto it and was in no way refined, also as intended. Her hair… She hesitated a bit. Tatooine's heat and desiccated air had deflated all its volume and evaporated its gloss, leaving the tresses to droop miserably around her face. She could always take it up, of course. But that would draw attention to her graceful neck and fine features, and the last thing she needed to look like right now was a girl with style. On the other hand, her hairpiece could hide an ultra-miniature hold-out blaster - able to fire three shots – and there was no other place she could hide it, her dress being as tight as it could be.

Mara pulled a statbrush through her redgold tresses and wondered if she'd made a mistake by not dying it for this assignment. A sharper shade of red would have appeared trashier. Well, it was too late for that now. She put the hairpiece into place, then traced her eyes with ten times as much eyeliner as she usually used. As finishing touch she took her lip paint and adjusted it to a deep, ruby color. A second later, on a whim of inspiration, she adjusted the color again. She waited for a moment while the tiny gears whirred to change the chemistry of the pigment, then painted her mouth. She smiled wickedly at her own reflection. Perfect! Her lips now had exactly the same red-orange shade as her hair, leaving both to look garishly unnatural and cheaply exotic.

On her way out of the room she wondered once again whether she possibly could find a place on herself to hide a larger blaster, but abandoned the thought - in this dress it was simply impossible, even for her. Completely unnecessary too; Jabba the Hutt's Palace practically teemed with firearms.

She hoped quietly Skywalker would arrive soon – long waits were part and parcel of the life of an assassin, but she hated them nonetheless. The sand crunched under her boots as she walked toward Jabba's audience chamber.

. . .

"Hey, you there! New girl – whatever your name is! Come here!"

Mara turned, putting on her best unnerved look. "Me, sir?"

"Yes, you, Red!" Bib Fortuna waved impatiently and Mara hurried up to him.

"We have a new slave to prepare. This will be your first task. Inside that room you will find water, clothes and cosmetics. Don't use too much make up." He gave Mara's face a disapproving glance. "I want her to still be looking stylish when you're finished with her. The way you looked when you applied for work here. Not the way you look now."

Mara blinked, making big eyes and hurried to look down again. "Yes, Master Fortuna."

"One more thing. Be careful. She's dangerous. You'll have two guards inside by the door, but they're Gamorreans, and they – well, you know how _they _are. Scream the very moment you notice she's up to something. There will be four more guards outside, down the corridor."

"Dangerous? But Master Fortuna. I'm a dancer, not —"

"Be silent!" Bib Fortuna's voice was a hoarse hiss. "And get moving!"

Mara lowered her head. "Yes, Master Fortuna!"

The Twi'lek's clawy nails dug into her shoulder as he pushed her through the corridors and into a dimly lit room. Two pig-faced guards kept watch over a young woman who sat on a cot, clad in a torn jumpsuit. On the floor lay a suit with helmet and mask.

Mara almost gasped as she recognized the woman. Whoa - if _she _was here…!

Fortuna fronted the prisoner. "I would advise you to comply with your fate. The mighty Jabba the Hutt has no patience withinsolent slaves. However, if you do as you are told and make yourself beautiful to him, you may live long in the light of his favor."

The expression of Princess Leia Organa didn't change one whit. Her hair was untidy, her face dirty and her clothes ragged and crumbled, and none of it made her look one iota less like royalty. And despite being a remarkably diminutive woman, seated on a low, filthy cot, she nonetheless managed to look down on the tall Twi'lek.

Fortuna uttered an oath in Huttese, turned on a heel, and stormed out of the room.

Mara stayed at the door for a moment, allowing herself the luxury of hesitating; any dancing girl in her position would either be near panic-struck or taunting – and the latter would not encourage Organa's co-operation**. **

So, Jabba had caught one of Skywalker's closest allies. That meant the Jedi was close by himself, unless Leia Organa had been acting solo of course. Either way, the Princess might well turn out to be a key to Skywalker. And while one of her Master's most important enemies, she wasn't Mara's target on this mission, so there was good reason to be civil to her. On some level Mara could even empathize with the woman, caught in this womprat hole as she was. There were fates you didn't wish even on your worst enemy.

Mara glanced over her shoulder and received a dumb look from the nearest Gamorrean. Then she walked across the room to a mobile screen that stood by the far wall. She lifted it and carried it back through the room, placing it before the guards.

"You'll excuse us boys, but we'll need some privacy," she explained with a sweet smile.

Still ignoring Organa, she crossed the room again and studied the supplies laid out; a beauty box, a metal bikini with shimmersilk in the skirt, complete with matching hair accessories. She also noticed a small fresher in the corner of the room. Mara picked up the things, sat down beside Organa and began lining up the contents; cleanser, moisturizer, hair remover, make-up, and a small selection of perfumes. Finally she looked up at the other woman. "Shall we get to it?"

Organa took a deep breath, her eyes ablaze. "Listen —"

Mara interrupted her, voice low but firm. "No, you listen to me. You're a slave here. Whatever you were before, you are not now. You might become that someone else again, but at the moment, making trouble will only fall back on you – hard. Play along in this game, and you might be the one playing others later."

She picked at the clothing. "This isn't worse than what I'm wearing. Or than any woman in the palace is wearing for that matter. Actually, it's even nicer; I certainly have no shimmersilk in my dress. Your next alternative might be nothing at all. The guards can easily force you out of that." She pointed at the tattered jumpsuit.

"Take a bath. You'll be able to choose between sanistream or water, at least I can in my room. The latter will probably irritate Jabba more, but remember that he's probably stealing it from the farmers in the surroundings. Prepare yourself as well as you can and tell me if you need help with anything." She tilted her head. "The hair, perhaps? Maybe I can get you something? To eat? To drink? I can't guarantee what I find, 'cause I'm still new here myself, but I'll do my best. Oh, and by the way, if you choose the shower, don't drink the water, it will only make you sick."

The dark eyes that had flashed defiantly at her only a moment ago, calmed, resigning before Mara's matter-of-fact . Of course; Organa was a highly intelligent, reasonable person and besides, Mara had managed to place them pretty much in the same boat.

Rising, Mara turned her back to the other woman in order to give her some privacy. Instead she seated herself by the small table and started to manicure her nails. It wasn't as meaningless a task as it might seem; she had hardly managed to grow them again after her last mission where she had broken most of them crawling in a rocky mountain pass for a week. And while bacta did well on bruises and scratches, it unfortunately didn't grow nails.

Behind her, she was aware that Organa had got up and out of her clothes, heading to the shower. To her grim amusement she noted that the Princess chose the sanistream instead of the refreshing water. Clearly, some years had gone by since Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan had last walked the magnificent halls of her father's palace. Life as rebel was not a cornucopia of comfort.

A pointed cough from the other side of the room made Mara wake up from her musings. "Maybe a towel?" the Princess suggested dryly.

"Of course," Mara mumbled mechanically. _Where? Oh yes, there_. She handled over a big beige towel and noted in passing how delicately built the other woman was.

"Thank you." There was a moment of silence as Organa dried herself, mahogany brown eyes focused on Mara. "What's your name?"

"Arica," Mara replied.

The brown eyes were lenient but also twinkling with irony. "Is that your real name or your "artist" name?"

Mara scowled at her. "That's the name you can use," she bit off.

A quizzical smile. Apparently the Princess was game for a challenge, even now. Mara bit her lip, rebuking herself for her showing of temper. She needed to be more careful with that; she had a role to play. Aloud she said: "You haven't told me if I can bring you something."

Organa nodded. "Something to drink would be good, thank you. And so would something to eat, actually. You never know…"

"You never know what?"

"You never know when you'll get something to eat next time."

A soldier princess, indeed. Always eat when you have the chance. Funny how years of warfare had taught even a princess of one of the Old Houses that lesson.

Or had the follow-on to that _you never know _been somewhat different in the princess' mind? Something like _you never know when a rescuing Jedi Knight might appear and you need your strength_? Smirking to herself, Mara slipped out of the room.

. . .

Leia sighed and reached for the make up. As Arica had pointed out, she had no choice. And now she was in a nice pickle; just like Luke had warned her about. Instead of accomplishing her part of the plan she had run off and improvised, thereby compromising the entire mission. The realization that everything now was entirely up to Luke made her stomach turn.

At least Luke was a more formidable force now than ever before. Leia didn't know much about what had happened to him after Hoth except that he had received some kind of Jedi training. Where and by whom, he hadn't been willing to tell anyone, which was perhaps another sign of his new, hard-won maturity. A fond smile crept out when she remembered the first time Luke had rescued her – how that chaotically eager young man had come tumbling into her cell in the detention center without the faintest idea how he'd get back out again. He'd been so pure-hearted, so ardent back then – and he still was, under that calm demeanor that had claimed increasing control during the past months.

She tried to imagine his face when he'd see her in this outfit and blushed. She knew he'd wince inwardly but keep his sabacc face – he always did nowadays when he had to. Sometimes he could still be the easygoing pilot, but Leia had the feeling that the cheeriness was as much a mask as the serious Jedi; like he didn't know himself which one that was more truthful anymore but still tried to please everybody. Leia lined her eyes and looked at the effect in the dusty mirror. She would have to talk with Luke about it at some point. If they managed to get away from here, that was. Well, at least Han was unfrozen now. She could only hope that Lando was somewhere close at hand, ready for action.

Hardly had this thought crossed her mind when the door cracked open and the gambler's familiar voice resounded through. "Hey, do you know where they keep the new slave girl? Oops!"

A loud _groink _from the Gamorrean guards and a metallic clash ensued. "Uh, I really just wanted to take a peek," the much more subdued voice stammered. "They say she's very pretty. No reason to get upset at all."

Leia jumped to her feet and leaned around the screen. The guards stood with crossed Vibro lances, preventing Lando, disguised as guardsman, to enter the room. His face was hardly visible behind an armored face plate but still he managed to flash one of his famous, dashing smiles towards Leia. "Ah! Hello there!"

Leia's muscles tensed and she squeezed the frame of the screen in her hands. If she could surprise the guards, she and Lando might be able to take them out together – if they could keep the racket down –

"What's happening here?" Arica appeared behind Lando with a tray. "_Move_ it, will you?"

Both Lando and the guards wilted out of her way. Leia rose her eyebrows in surprise; she sure wasn't used to seeing dancers take command so easily. The red haired girl walked into the room, tray balanced elegantly on one hand and chin lifted scornfully as she ushered the males aside. The Gamorreans cringed back while Lando gawked at the newcomer from a safe distance. Leia had to roll her eyes. Never one to miss a well shaped rear, was Lando. Arica ignored him, scrutinizing Leia with the tray still tilted in the air. She nodded in approval. "Delightful. I'm sure Bib Fortuna will be pleased."

Leia nodded, smiling politely as she accepted the tray. She couldn't know whether Arica would help the guards if it came to a fight, but she wouldn't take the risk. Obviously there was more to this girl than met the eye.

She and Lando would simply have to hope for a next chance. And that would rely completely on Luke.

. . .

Stepping out onto the dancing floor of Jabba's audience chamber a couple of hours later, Mara wondered whether she had ever danced before a more wretched pack of scum and villany. She very much doubted it but ordered herself to resist any inclinations to turn in a subpar performance. Being the affluent crime lord he was, Jabba could afford the very best in entertainment. Even if Mara didn't attribute the voluminous Hutt any refined appreciation of the art of dancing, she knew that the crowd could easily hide more tasteful individuals.

Consequently, she did her very best, deliberately mixing courtly schools from different corners of the galaxy with the most seductive styles into a freestyle performance that couldn't be pinpointed back to any specific school but was sure to accommodate the audience's yearning for sultry entertainment without abandoning artistic considerations. Finally she dropped to the floor, torso bent forward, arms swept before her and legs spread out, one if front, one behind. She forced herself to keep her breathing regular; the performance wasn't over before she'd left the floor.

As she gracefully rose and bowed to the shapeless lump of meat that believed himself her Master, she corrected herself; her _real_ performance wasn't over until she'd killed her target.

So, the performance went on for the next several hours as the suns reached their zeniths outside the palace walls, adding a choking heat to the dusty air. Mara paid her respects to the musicians and the back up singers and was welcomed by the other dancing girls; Jess, Manaroo and Lona. She danced, flirted with the guests, and danced again. The whispering girls told her all the details of Jabba's last dancer, the ill-fated Oola, of last night's unsuccesful rescue of Solo and the capture of the rebel Princess, as well as of the arrival of both the Wookiee and the droids. Apparently Skywalker's appearance on the holorecording had set the hearts of several dancing girls afire and caused as many males to recheck that their blasters sat loose in their holsters. Mara snorted to herself as she observed the swath of chaotic emotion the Jedi had left in his wake. People were so easily led and deceived - and evidently nothing was easier to awake than romantic delusions.

She kept herself busy cataloguing familiar faces and memorizing those unknown to her. She recognized Boba Fett, the Mandalorian bounty hunter whom Darth Vader frequently contracted and who supposedly had brought the carbonized Han Solo into Jabba's Palace. According to the dancing girls, Jabba hadn't had much time to enjoy his new decoration. Leia Organa had thawed Solo just before she was taken prisoner, and the Corellian was now in a cell with his Wookiee friend, where he would not have to wait long before execution if palace scuttlebutt was to be believed.

She had little energy to spare for much more; dancing in the baking heat proved as taxing as combat. Fortunately for her, Jabba was too busy with his new princess-toy to give Mara any attention when she wasn't on the dance floor. To have his clammy paws groping her body would without question have turned this mission into the worst assignment her Master had sent her on yet.

Hardly had she thought that before she felt a hand cupping her buttocks. Mara stiffened, suppressing the urge to grab the idiot and swing him over her head into the nearest wall. Instead she glanced timidly over her shoulder, meeting the glimmering eyes of a Devaronian.

"You may share my cot tonight if you want to," he assured her thickly, gleaming eyes slightly slurred.

"Wow," Mara purred, sauntering out of range. "Thanks." _First Skywalker, _she vowed to herself, _then him_.

. . .

Leia was far too displeased with her new role as Jabba's personal slave girl to even consider applauding Arica's faultless performance, but could hardly help noticing quality entertainment when it was under her nose. Though she had never studied dance particularly, she was perfectly able to recognize a professional when she saw one. A bona fide dancer then; yet one with a past, that was quite certain. Despite an ingratiating smile and batting lashes, Leia noted that the girl's green eyes didn't miss a beat. Constrained as she was, Leia threw herself into observing her surroundings, and especially the redhaired dancer.

As the scorching heat reached its height, all living beings sought refuge in shadows, rifts and caverns. Even in the shelter of the palace, temperatures started to become almost unbearable. Leia's eyes followed Arica as she shook sand from her hair in an obvious effort to shake off weariness as well. Most of Jabba's guests and entourage were asleep but the red-haired dancer seemed puzzlingly reluctant to doze off. Sure, the Palace was full of scumbags and sleeping in their presence wasn't exactly alluring, but it was after all still plain, bright day, and in the quiet one would not exactly need to blow out a lung in order to get assistance. Besides, Arica definitely struck Leia as someone who could take care of herself. Evetually, the girl settled into a corner and Leia found herself yawning too. She hesitated. There was little chance Luke would show up during the next couple of hours; to travel the desert this time of the day was downright stupid, as he knew better than anyone. If Leia took a nap now, she would be alert when things started to heat up, probably some time around or after dusk. With a resigned sigh she leaned back against the belly of the Hutt

. . .

Something was wrong.

In one, smooth movement Mara was on her feet, taking in the room and already upbraiding herself for falling asleep – she should have known better! A curse rose to her lips when she saw what she had missed.

Almost unnaturally calm, Skywalker stood in the middle of enemy camp. Mara sucked in her breath, grudgingly fascinated; he seemed to fill the room with his quiet, intense presence; serene, unshakable and utterly mild. Infinite, somehow… Nothing of that single-minded rebellious criminal she had prepared herself to meet. But then, he was a Jedi, or so her Master claimed; she had only heard tales of them…

Mara ripped herself out of her musings. She was wasting precious seconds. Skywalker's attention was completely focused on Jabba; it was time to act. Instead of reaching for the gun in her hairdo or the vibroblade in her leg bracelet, she slipped soundlessly behind a guard and pinched his blaster. _Now_ -

Then - as by some strange doubt - she held back and analyzed the situation. Skywalker and Jabba could very well take each other out without her needing to move a finger. If she let them do that, her chances of escaping alive would be considerably greater. Not that fear for her own life had ever held Mara back; the only worthwhile purpose it could have was fulfilling the orders of her Master. Still, wasting her life unnecessarily would ill serve him too.

Her musings were interrupted as the Jedi suddenly pulled a blaster from a guard, using the Force. The next second a Gamorrean hurtled into him and the gun fired into the ceiling as Skywalker lost his balance. Before Mara had even time to rise her blaster, the floor vanished; guard and Jedi tumbled together into the pit below. Mara's lips wrinkled into an ironic smile._ Hardly impressive, Skywalker_. _Maybe you should have used the Force to orientate yourself in the first place?_

As the spectators rushed forward, eagerly babbling and smelling blood, Mara discreetly returned the blaster to the guard's holster and pressed herself towards the center until she had a clear view of the pit below. If Jabba's little pet rancor didn't do away with Skywalker, she would have to take up the hunt, in which case a small study of his abilities would be helpful. He had to be quite a warrior, Jedi and all, managing to survive four years as one of the Empire's most wanted criminals. Yet, as the drama below unfolded, Mara wrinkled her brow in disbelief.

While the rancor didn't manage to dispatch Skywalker, the Jedi hardly demonstrated any show-stopping talents either. Sure, he kept his head most the time, but in the end when the beast attacked him, he threw a simple stone to activate the gate and crush its skull, instead of reaching out with the Force. Mara shook her head. Was Skywalker really such a bungler? Or was he trying to fool everybody to believe that he had so little control of things?

Thinking quickly, Mara went through the most likely prospects. What if Skywalker's intention had all the time had been to be taken prisoner…? Had he simply been gambling with is life, confident in his abilities, only to get the chance to gather his friends around him? Jabba was famous for his spectacular executions of his enemies. Most of the time they occured away from the palace, in some deserted place where no disturbance was likely to interrupt and where help would not come to victims –

...Or to the executioners.

A smile tugged the corners of Mara's mouth. If that was the plan, there was a wicked twist to it that she liked.

The guards came, dragging the Jedi as well as Solo and the Wookiee, and the three comrades exchanged a few cocky words. None of them seemed even near to broken, not even the Princess; she was still scowling every time Jabba pulled her leash. Least of all she looked like a subdued slave girl.

As he stood there, imprisoned and surrounded by guards, Mara took her time to study Skywalker. He was shorter than she had expected, more scarred, and not quite as youthful as on the holos she'd seen. Yet, he was lean, obviously in excellent shape, and there was an air to him, an awareness that gave his face life and aura far beyond conventional good looks. Mara no longer wondered how the Rebels had come to consider him their hero; even she was not immune to his charisma. Still, that only confirmed how dangerous a criminal this man was. That fumbling with the rancor must have been a coldly calculated game, Mara decided, played to lull everybody into a false sense of security. Skywalker seemed neither surprised nor desperate, not even when the protocol droid pronounced Jabba's plans to execute them all in the desert. On the contrary, his confidence appeared if anything greater. There could be no doubt that he had a plan. Probably getting his friends out the Palace had been a main priority.

Mara indulged in a sharklike grin. If the big Hutt was in for a surprise, she didn't mind at all. Her own job would be to make sure Skywalker was in for the same.

This would be interesting indeed.

. . .

Several hours later, when only the most dedicated party owls remained in the main hall, Mara managed to convince Jess to ask one of the bounty hunters to show her the dungeons. When he agreed, it turned out that all three dancing girls wanted to come along. Before they managed to leave, two more bounty hunters had caught wind of the expedition and joined.

Max Jinka, the bounty hunter who'd agreed to guide them, had been in Jabba's service for years. He took them down to the Gamorrean responsible for the guards on shift and Mara had an unexpectedly good opportunity to both see the facilities with her own eyes and to get her questions answered as well.

The dungeons were primitive but solid; thick bars kept the prisoners in check in small caves. The entire establishment was several meters below ground level and the only way out was through a passage guarded not only by several Gamorrean guards but by sensors as well; in fact the entire space of the dungeons was covered by security cams, except for the farthest corners of the cavernous cells. Mara appraised with satisfaction that the security was sufficient to hold the prisoners. That meant that she could allow herself to relax and get some sleep.

Unfortunately, the bounty hunters who accompanied them had different ideas. In the faint light of the dungeons, Jinka took the opportunity to corner Jess, who made no complaints, probably due to his Falleen pheromones that Mara could sense he sent out in copious amount. In no time they were busy in the corner of the dungeon, almost disappearing in the shadows, but unfortunately the sounds carried well off the hard stone. The other two males, Mara's Devaronian wooer from earlier and a heavily built Human, also decided it was time for a move. Mara found her hands full with the Devaronian, who'd apparently lost his comprehension of Basic hours ago, along with any accidental ability to take a hint. Her problems however, were nothing compared to the other girl's. Lona was a turquoise skinned young Twi'lek, flown straight from Ry'loth and still clearly new to the ways in the underworld. The panic that radiated from her was almost palpable when her suitor tried to lureher into the opposite corner. She kept coming up with excuses and tried to stop the burly man's hand rambling over her slender body, but without much success.

Mara soon lost her patience with her admirer and stamped her heel – spiked heels were at least good for something – hard down on his booted foot. It didn't hurt him as much as she'd hoped, as his boots were space-grade, but her next move – a knee rammed into his crotch – quite made up for it. The alien sagged forwards, the air fleeing his lungs. Mara grabbed his horn and ear, twisted his head and hissed; "I _said _I was tired, goat head! Now piss off before I get annoyed for real!"

A few of the prisoners in various cells had awoken from the sounds and edged closer in order to follow the spectacle unfolding in their dungeon. When the Devaronian finally padded away, Mara noticed that one of the shadows behind the bars looked notably like the Jedi. He paid no attention to the all but coupling Jess and Jinka in the corner, but divided his attention between Mara and Lona's troubles. For a moment Mara was sure she looked Skywalker straight in the eye – it was hard to decide in the dimly lit space – then he turned his quiet attention back to the Twi'lek who stood just meters away from his cell and whose desperation was growing every moment.

Mara cursed under her breath. To help the girl wasn't part of her job and finding herself in situation like these was the part of her job she hated the most. Her job was to help the citizens of the galaxy, naturally, but she was undercover now and might endanger her own mission. The girl was young but she might as well learn that you didn't die using your body for other things besides dancing. Mara knew exactly what it was like; sometimes it gave her the creeps and made her feel almost dirty for days. On the other hand only time and experience could teach the necessary skill of brushing those feelings away.

She had already decided to leave but instead found herself, much to her own annoyance, approaching the struggling couple. This really wasn't the time to play hero, she reminded herself. Ok, the man was _nothing_ near attractive; the Twi'lek, however, was hardly a virgin anymore and…

Before she'd had time to act, the Jedi spoke. His voice was low and soft and if Mara hadn't happened to see his hand move slightly at the same time, she'd almost thought she was imagining.

"You do not wish to sleep with her. It just seemed like a good idea because your buddy got lucky."

The man shuddered and paused a moment as if he'd been interrupted, then continued, however with less conviction than before.

"Please," Lona pleaded, almost sobbing now and twisting desperately to release herself from his grip. "Please, let me go."

"C'mon, girlie," the man panted, though he seemed a tad out of it. "You know you want this too."

"No," she insisted, "No, please! I don't!"

"And neither do you, deep down." The Jedi's voice was again a faint whisper, hardly audible in his shadowy cave. "What _you _really want is to get a good night's sleep. So in fact, you understand her very well."

"I understand you very well," the man repeated, and Mara froze completely, following what was unfolding in front of her eyes with breathless fascination. This was a Jedi performing a mind trick! She'd heard of it and knew her Master could do similar things, but she'd never seen it done in reality. Could Skywalker fool all the guards like this? Could he make them let him and his friends out of the prison? Or was that too big a mouthful? After all there were several guards and security lenses… Yet, if he could stop this man, make him release the girl…?

The heavily built bounty hunter seemed to hesitate and the Twi'lek doubled her efforts to get away. Suddenly she tore free with a hard twist of her hip, the next second she had dashed past Mara and disappeared down the passage.

"Damned hussy!" The man was shaking his hand that had apparently got hurt in the process, and clearly at a loss what face to put up.

"Well, I'll be Kesseled…" he muttered again, then looked up meeting Mara's eyes.

"You can't get lucky every night, big man," she told him levelly. "Try to bring her something nice tomorrow and compliment her dancing. Then try a more gentle approach and see if that helps. And if it doesn't, well, then it probably works better on someone else."

The man hrumphed and started walking towards the exit. Passing her he slowed, almost reluctantly taking in her appearance. "What about you? You wouldn't happen to…".

Mara shook her head firmly. "Not a chance. Too tired. First day on the job."

"Uh, well… Ok." The man yawned. "Now you say it, I could use some sleep myself. Damn, I didn't realize I was this tired!"

Before Mara turned to follow, she threw a glance over her shoulder and saw a slender shadow retreat from the bars of his cell and return to the shadows.

T.B.C.


	4. Chapter 4

**Quagmire **

Chapter 4 - On the Khetanna 

Jabba's "court" was about the most textbook case of primitive culture any sociologist could ask for, Mara decided; and the atmosphere aboard the sail barge confirmed this better than anything. The guests on the _Khetanna_ became more and more drunk, obviously seeing the upcoming execution as an entertaining event only. Mara snorted to herself. What chance did this inebriated mob think it had of killing a Jedi?

Still, a court of this size also needed capable people around to run the barge; present on the_ Khetanna_ was also a relatively large group of guards and bounty hunters who never relaxed, who could hold their liquor and never lost their edge. Despite that, Mara had no plans trusting any of them to handle the job of killing Skywalker alone. It was clear that the Jedi and his friends had some kind of a plan, and Mara knew better than to underestimate an opponent. Luke Skywalker might be a farmboy gone astray, but he had nonetheless survived four years of warfare against the Empire; in itself quite an achievement. He had also managed to avoid the clutches of Lord Vader all these years – Vader, who had captured thousands of other Jedi in the past. Either the Dark Lord was slipping or Skywalker was really, really good. Add the destruction of the Death Star and the annihilation of Prince Xizor and his Black Sun organization, and it made an impressive record.

Princess Leia hovered by the window of the barge, biting her lip, hands clenched into fists. Was she purely nervous – or expecting to leap into action any second? Mara followed her gaze to the prisoner's skiff where Skywalker, Solo and the Wookiee were being transported to their execution. She had heard rumors that the Corellian and Organa were lovers. On the other hand, she'd also heard rumors about the Princess and Skywalker, and it might well be that neither were to be believed. Neither - or both, she reflected dryly.

Be that as it may, the Princess was certainly indifferent to neither of them, and they were unquestionably close to her, as well as to each other and the Wookiee. Mara knew that the common record of those four went as far back as the Death Star. It must be a strange thing, she mused, to share so much history with other people, so many deadly situations. Mara herself had always operated alone. The only person she served, answered, or committed herself to was her Master. Everybody else she dealt with was just a temporary tool, amusement, indifference or annoyance.

It had always been this way; she couldn't even remember her parents anymore, though she knew she'd once had a memory of them. She didn't miss them. Attachments were a weakness, a loss of control. She was content with her ideals for a better galaxy and she took pride in serving the only man who could realize them.

Unfortunately, not even her Master could save the galaxy when he had such stubborn enemies. Which was why he needed her. Mara turned her attention back to the stubborn enemy currently in question. He looked harmless – innocent even, with his sandy hair and boyish face. Beside the tall Corellian and the Wookiee he seemed like a hardly-grown youngster. Which was - of course – all too misleading. Skywalker might be young, idealistic even, but he was also a committed radical, prepared to sacrifice other people's lives in order to fulfill his own goals. Also, she hadn't forgotten his unshakable whisper the evening before; there was no end to the damage a ruthless outlaw with such abilited could do to his surroundings. None the less, Mara felt confident that she could take him out. The problem was – how? The most straightforward strategy would be to pinch a blaster and shoot him down right now. However, if Skywalker's danger sense was even half as good as her own – and he was a Jedi, so it was probably much better than that - he would sense the threat, duck and maybe even manage to take cover; after all he was only tied by his hands. Mara, meanwhile, would have the entire sail barge turning against her, prohibiting her from taking a second shot. She didn't like those odds, even without taking into account the allies that Skywalker probably had lurking in the crowd. She hadn't been successful in spotting them so far, but that didn't mean they didn't exist.

The best course of action was rather to bide her time, hoping that Jabba's people would manage the task but staying alert as backup if they failed. Again she wondered about Skywalker's Jedi abilities. She had no doubt he was powerful; that kinetic sense of power around him – like a constant, calm buzz – announced it quite clearly; only her Master had a presence of that kind. Well, her Master and…Vader. Mara made a face of distaste.

Vader had distanced himself from Mara from first day she'd emerged as the Emperor's Hand. Only eighteen when she started her career, she had at first been bewildered by his dislike of her, naively convinced that two servants so close to her Master should be able to work together. Mara balled her hands to fists. She knew why now. Vader was a traitor, and his effort to persuade Skywalker to join him some months ago at Bespin was the reason she was here – to make sure Skywalker never reconsidered that offer.

She wondered why Vader had never tried to induce _her_ to treachery. As the only Force sensitives in the Palace, one would have thought a partnership could be tempting, but perhaps Vader had realized from the start that Mara was far too loyal to her Master? Or had he simply dismissed her as too lightly gifted? Perhaps the idea to co-operate with someone hadn't even struck the Dark Lord before he'd met someone as potent as Skywalker? Mara was proud of her own Force abilities, but also realist enough to know when she met her superior. When it came to Jedi powers, she was no match for Skywalker, she had no doubt of that. Her own abilities were limited to danger sense, a little telekinesis, hearing amplification, and a bit of mind reading and shielding. She wasn't capable of actually penetrating people's minds in sense of reading their thoughts, but on the other hand that was hardly necessary. Most people downright oozed with feelings that she could pick up to perfection, and most of the time it didn't take much to reconstruct their emotions into thoughts and intentions.

Would that be enough to take Skywalker out? Mara was confident. After all, she had more aces up her sleeve than a few Force tricks.

. . .

She had just finished her third dance on the cramped deck when the hum of the repulsorlift engines died. The procession had arrived at the Great Pit of Carcoon, where the execution was to take place.

Mara followed the stream of beings out onto the top deck and positioned herself in the aft lounge where the windows were wide open, allowing her a full view without being exposed herself. The prisoner's skiff had stopped by the Sarlacc's pit and the guards, having now released Skywalker's hands, were goading him out on a plank, out to the awaiting beast. Drunken witticisms flew back and forth over Mara's head as the crowds speculated about the spectacle that would ensue when Skywalker tried his Jedi tricks on the Sarlacc. Mara rolled her eyes. Did they really believe he would wait until he was all the way down there? But even she was on edge now. Time was running out, and Skywalker still hadn't acted.

The voice of the protocol droid, artificially magnified, began to resonate over the pit, echoing Jabba's last message to the prisoners. Solo barked something back in agitation but Skywalker only raised his voice to repeat his earlier warnings. Mara shifted discreetly in order to have best possible space to maneuver. Any second now, it would be time to move into action – she took a deep breath to keep her muscles from tensing…

Skywalker lifted his hand to salute someone Mara couldn't see. Alarmed, she expanded her awareness, and at that she felt, rather than saw, a lightsaber come flying through the air. So _that_ was his plan! She reached out with the Force, grabbing the saber in midair so it turned direction and flew straight into her outreached hand.

_There!_ She grinned in triumph. _Do you have a plan B, Jediboy?_

A drunken Aqualish beside her slurred a question, wondering what she had caught, but Mara ignored him, concentrating on the events on the skiff. Skywalker had leapt off the plank, spinning in midair and using it as catapult to spring straight back up and land on the deck behind the very guard who had tried to push him out. He reached his hand out, clearly expecting his lightsaber to land neatly in it. When nothing happened he looked up in alarm.

For split seconds he just stared into thin air, searching for his weapon that hadn't come, and Mara could see the panic when the Jedi realized his plan had failed. Then he launched himself onwards, avoiding both an incoming laserbolt and a vibrospear by a hairbreadth, and continued headlong into the guard before him. As they both tumbled on the deck, one of the guards attacked another one accompanied by the Wookiee's earsplitting roar. The Wookiee, however, was still tied to the rail and the three remaining guards dashed at Skywalker immediately. Just as quickly they bounced back, pushed by some invisible power that sent them sprawling on the deck. They recovered fast, but the Jedi had rolled onto his stomach, now with a blaster tight in his hand and dropped the nearest of them with a single shot. The second guard headed for cover while the third pulled his weapon, but neither were in time. An instant later Skywalker was back on his feet, all his opponents down.

Mara cursed quietly and pulled her small hold-out blaster from her hair decoration, aiming and shooting almost in the same movement. Just as she pulled the trigger, a jet motor pack started right behind her, making her jump. Her shot hit the skiff, almost a meter from the Jedi, and one of the worst she'd ever fired. Cursing whoever had distracted her, Mara peered up and recognized Boba Fett, Vader's favorite bounty hunter, soaring straight onto the skiff. Mara held her fire, quickly sizing up. She had only two more shots now and Fett had often proved his abilities to the Empire; surely he would be man enough for the task?

He wasn't. Skywalker was busy freeing his friends when the Mandalorean landed but turned on the balls of his feet,his hand rising with palm upwards and fingers spead. Fett staggered back from the Force blow and his blaster flew into Skywalker's other hand. The Jedi spun back around and continued untying his friends. Now, everything happened very quickly. The guard who'd obviously been a disguised rebel succeeded in hurling his opponent overboard. The Wookiee got free and charged Fett, flinging him head first towards the Sarlacc. Mara lifted her blaster a second time, aiming carefully –

Which of course, was when the gunner on the _Khetanna _finally opened fire.

The Jedi jerked to the side as his skiff took a violent hit from the laser cannon and Mara's shot nicked the rail. The escort skiff, carrying more guards and several bounty hunters, was also speeding up and charging. While his friends threw themselves down on the deck to avoid the hailstorm of energy bolts, Skywalker steered his skiff full speed towards the other. At the last second the Jedi changed direction, avoiding a lethal head-on collision. Still, the broadside impact threw everyone on both skiffs into a messy tumble of arms, legs and weapons – everybody but Skywalker who'd jumped an instant before, and now landed in the middle of his hapless opponents on the other vehicle. Mara cursed under her breath and fired a third time – and missed as a Weequay hurled himself between her and her prey! All her shots gone, she needed a new blaster – and she needed it now! She spun around and launched herself into a Devaronian, faintly realizing it was her wooer from the evening before. With a violent blow to the side of his head she leapt back up with his blaster.

"She's with them!" her Abyssin neighbor screamed. The next second she had the undivided attention of the entire lounge. _Not good. Not good at all! _

Mara shot the nearest thug and reached for the lightsaber that she'd fastened to her belt. In that same instant the lightsaber tore itself from her waist and shot through the air like it had been caught in a tractor beam. Which was just about the exact truth. How could she have been so stupid to think Skywalker wouldn't try to get it back again!

Mara clenched her jaw and began to pump laser. Things weren't exactly going as planned. Nothing even faintly similar had happened to her before, but this certainly looked bad. Skywalker was still alive and now she had herself become the target of at least twenty armed and unscrupulous beings. Mara reeled off fire like a possessed woman but fell suddenly with a cry of pain as something heavy and sharp cut deep into her thigh.

She rolled away, automatically dampering the pain with the Force and firing in the direction she'd come. The Gamorrean who had hit her from behind dropped his vibro ax and collapsed, hit straight between his grim little pig eyes. Mara rolled behind his massive body and continued to shoot. After what felt like an eternity she was alone, all her opponents either down or fled.

There was still shouting from the skiffs, indicating Skywalker was still alive, but a quick glance down her leg told Mara that if she was to carry her mission out, first priority was to take care of the wound. The guard had lashed out at her from a distance - luckily for her - if he'd hit with full power he would have broken her leg. Even now, it was bad. The cut was deep and broad - a quintessential vibroblade wound - and though no artery was hit she could already feel her head spinning from the loss of blood. She had to seal the flow! Pressing her hand to the wound, Mara forced herself to her feet again and hobbled across the room, desperately drawing on the Force just in order to move. She staggered down the stairs to mid-deck and burst through the door to the banquet room, where the spectacle was so astonishing she actually forgot her pain.

Jabba the Hutt lay lifeless on his divan. At his side, still in chains but looking much happier than when she last saw her, was Leia Organa. The gazes of the two women locked. Organa opened her mouth to say something but in the same instant the door smashed open and a guard came bursting in, blaster raised. He shouted something in Huttese and aimed for the Princess. But Mara was faster and the guard fell lifeless to the floor with a hard thud. As the two women's eyes met again, the door opened for the second time; this time a bulky droid came rolling in. The Princess let out a cry of recognition. "Artoo!"

Mara turned and leaped out of the room. She could her the Princess shout something after her, but she didn't care. Her wound throbbed alarmingly now; she had to stop the bleeding or the mission would be blown. With a sigh of relief she spotted a med case on the far wall in the adjacent room. As she limped towards it, she reproached herself with rising irritation for her own spontaneous softness. Not that she had been ordered to kill Organa, but did she actually have to help her stay alive? The woman was, after all, a criminal.

She was forced to use several bacta plasters to damper the heavy bleeding. Vibroblades were deadly weapons; even small impact caused nasty wounds due to their ultrasonic vibration and right now Mara was painfully reminded of why they were outlawed in most civilized systems. Even with a severe pressureshe knew she wouldn't be able to run many meters before it bled through. Her head was swimming and she reached out to the Force to get hold of herself. The pain was unbearable but her danger sense was also buzzing wildly and she had no doubt that remaining where she was would imply certain death. She had already wasted many valuable minutes on that stupid wound. Maybe the fight was over already and Skywalker getting away?

She _had_ to complete her mission!

Clenching her teeth, Mara got up again and scrambled back up to the main deck. The barge was swaying violently now. She came up just in time to see Leia Organa throw her arms around Skywalker who swung them towards the skiff on one of the barge sail's mooring ropes. Mara hobbled after them, blaster lifted – but the _Khetanna_ gave a violent shudder, knocking her off balance and sending her head over heels into the rail. She tried to diminish the collision but her right leg refused to cooperate and she hit the metal, wounded leg first.

The pain that jolted through her caused her to yell straight out – but even worse was that her hand lost its grip around the blaster and with a yelp of desperation she watched her weapon disappear under the rail. The outrage washing through her gave Mara the power to get onto her feet, furiously clutching to the rail. Skywalker and Organa had reached the skiff; she could see no trace of anybody alive on the barge anymore, at least not on the deck. Cold fear gripped her heart as she realized the_ Khetanna_ only had seconds left. Before he left the ship, Skywalker had pointed the main canon towards the deck and now the entire starboardside was in flames that couldn't be more than centimetres from the fuel tanks; the barge was about to explode. Mara was just about to swing her legs over the rail to jump from the ship when she realized that the Sarlacc's pit gaped beneath the barge's entire length and then some. Mara swallowed hard and her rage slipped into the back of her mind. There was no way she could reach safe ground.

She was trapped.

So this was the way it would end. The Jedi and his friends had outmaneuvered her without even realizing she was there. She would die now, on this pathetic barge, after the most pitiful of failures, surrounded by the worst scum of the galaxy! Mara had always been certain that she would die in combat, but not like this. This battle had been the poorest, most miserable fight in her life.

And the punishment would be death. There was a logic to it, but none she cared for. She looked back towards the skiff again - and gasped for her breath.

Skywalker was sailing back through the air, clenching the rope that was still attached to the mast. He landed on the deck and looked straight at her.

"C'mon!"

Mara stood like she'd been struck by the lightening. All strategies were blown away.

The Jedi shouted again, and now he waved at her. "Come on! Hurry!"

The primitive urge to survive awoke in her, sweeping all other thoughts away, and she stumbled towards him. He ran to meet her, rope still in his hand, and threw a strong arm around her.

An explosion from the quarterdeck rocked the barge and a creak sounded from above. "The mast is cracking!" Mara screamed.

His eyes swept up, then again down, meeting hers. Blue eyes pierced through her and teeth flashed in a sudden, reckless smile. "Not for another ten seconds."

The next moment they soared through the air.

They hit the deck of the skiff with such an impact that Mara screamed again in pain. Only Skywalker's arm around her prevented her from sagging on the deck.

"Let's go. And don't forget the droids."

He helped her down onto the deck. She collapsed, exhausted, shivering in pain, still trying desperately to get a survey of the situation. Her vision had gone heavily fuzzy and her hands were shaking; she realized that everything had changed completely in a nanosecond_. _Skywalker was standing up now, his lightsaber on his opposite hip, completely out of her reach. She had to reach the vibroblade in her leg bracelet or her mission would be forfeit… Maybe she could still… Pain swallowed her thoughts. Who was she kidding? She stood no more chance of killing Skywalker now than Jabba's Kowakian monkey-lizard would have.

A darkskinned man appeared next to them. He flashed a broad, well-practiced smile and clicked his tongue appreciatively as he looked back and forth between Mara and the Princess. "My, my. If swinging around with gorgeous ladies is one of your usual job benefits, Luke, I might try this Jedi thing myself!"

"Please, Lando!" Skywalker groaned and hurried to the gunwale. A moment later two droids were lifted onboard. Mara recognized one of them as Jabba's protocol droid, while the smaller could have been the one that had came for the Princess on the _Khetanna_.

She could hear the explosions from the barge increase. The skiff lurched into motion with a jerk, the Wookiee steering it away in full speed. Soon the sounds of Jabba the Hutt's downfall were gone in the whining wind…

"You're wounded!"

Mara started. Had she lost consciousness for a moment? Something shadowed her from the sun. It took her a while to realize it was Skywalker who crouched before of her. She peered behind him, her mission suddenly looming in the front of her mind again. The dark fellow and the Wookiee stood by the stern. The Princess and Solo were embracing each other by the other gunwail, clearly oblivious to everything around them. It hit Mara's dim consciousness that at least some of those romantic rumors seemed to be true after all.

Again, she focused on the Jedi before her. Though concerned, he still looked far too observant for her to dare reaching out for her vibroblade without awaking his suspicion. And he sat in such an angle that she still couldn't nick his lightsaber and dispatch him either. It dawned to her with terrifying clarity that she didn't seem to have the tiniest chance of killing Skywalker could die trying, of course…

Or might she get an opportunity later… if she played along?

The Jedi frowned, pulling back slightly and Mara's heart jumped. Had he sensed what she was thinking?

Then he laid his hand on her shoulder, his voice placating. "Hey. You don't need to be afraid. No one's threatening you here. We want to help you!"

Mara's voice was weak, and not because she was acting. "Really?"

She struggled to think clearly. The rebels couldn't be aware of either her identity or her mission, not unless the Jedi could see right through her. Shield… she had to shield! What if she could lure them into seeing her as a potential ally?

"Absolutely!" Skywalker affirmed. She could feel him pouring reassurance and calm towards her in the Force. "Leia saw you at the deck and told me you had helped her earlier. Let me take a look at that wound of yours…"

She moved so that he could reach her thigh, and couldn't hold back a moan. Unconsciously, she had used the Force to keep going, but her strength was fading out now and her grip on consciousness was slipping.

Skywalker opened the pressure and looked suddenly very wrong. Mara threw a look at the wound and wished in the same moment that she hadn't. Strangely enough, the blood wasn't streaming out of the wound though the pressure had been removed.

"Lando! Do we have a med pac somewhere?" Skywalker called.

The dark man hurried to them. "I'd be very surprised if we did. Why… Ouch!" He paled visibly.

"Hurry up, will you?" Skywalker moved his hand over the wound and Mara blinked again at the sight of his hand; there was a hole in the back of it, wires visible under burned synth flesh – oh, that was right, he'd lost his real hand when he'd battled Darth Vader at Bespin - she had quite forgotten. Then she realized that his movement was actually making the pain diminish somewhat. He laid his other hand on her temple and what a difference it made! It was like a refreshing, cool breath in her mind. Her head cleared in an instant and she could feel her body begin to fight again instead of the heavy dizziness that had overcome her. She lifted her eyes in wonder and met the blue gaze of the Jedi

His presence streamed into her mind like a mighty wave. Again she felt that infinite calm that she had sensed when she first saw him. Simultaneously, and in complete contradiction, there was a tangle of emotions; doubt, restlessness and yearning, feelings fierce and raw to an extent that made her own mind appear uncomplicated as a cud chewing bantha. Their power knocked the wind out of her for a moment.

She gasped, and his eyes widened in response. Could he see into her like she could see into him? She slammed her shields down out of pure reflex and he stared incredulously at her. _Damn!_ She might as well have told him straight out out that she was a Force user and capable of shielding.

Strangely enough, no suspicion emerged into those sky blue eyes. Only earnest benevolence. And apparently right now, confusion, because he blinked and studied her in puzzlement. Then he must have reached out for the Force again and a new wave of light and strength poured through her.

"No med pac," the dark guy muttered from nearby. Mara could just make out the Princess appearing behind him. She looked worried too.

"Are you ok?"

Mara nodded and pressed her lips tightly together. The way people were thronging around her, the chance for her carrying out her mission at the moment was close to zero. But if Skywalker hadn't suspected anything, she might be able to make them take her along…

"What are you doing, Luke?" she heard the Princess' ask.

"I'm using the Force to slow the blood flow and to give her body strength not to go into shock."

Into shock? She had never gone into shock in her entire life!

Organa touched her face. "You are very pale. Do we have blankets?"

Stupid question. They were on a skiff in the middle of the desert. Where would they get blankets from?

She forced herself to open her mouth. "Where are you taking me?"

They looked at each other and she could sense their bewilderment.

_Good_, Mara thought. With one single question, she had laid her fate in their hands. If she was lucky, they would take up the responsibility.

It was bliss to give in to darkness and oblivion.

. . .

Luke stared at the unconscious girl before him. A flurry of conflicting impressions and emotions swirled through him. He was sure that only moments ago he'd picked up a sharp, strong threat radiating from this girl who now lay pale and helpless at his feet. He was just as sure that if he ceased slowing her blood flow with the Force she would bleed to death in no time at all.

"Luke?" Leia's voice cut through the silence that surrounded his numb mind.

He looked up, perplexed. "Huh?"

Leia gestured towards the girl. "What should we do with her?"

Luke blinked. Leia asked _him_ for advice? Great. Why did she always do that when he was at a complete loss for what to do? And who _was _this girl anyway?

"What do you mean 'what we should do with her'?" Han wondered, emerging from behind Leia. "We'll take her with us, of course." He peered towards the girl, eyes narrowing in concentration, but it was obvious he was still blind as a bat; he even held on to the rail for direction.

"But we don't know anything about her," Leia protested. "We can't take her to the Alliance."

Han shrugged. "Well, we can't leave her here either, can we? Besides, didn't you just say she helped you? Hey, we can always drop her off somewhere before we reach the fleet."

Leia turned back to Luke. "Can you sense anything about her?"

Luke frowned and reached out with the Force again. The girl's presence was dimmed now and he couldn't sense any more danger from her, but perhaps that was because she was unconscious? Or had he been mistaken? Had it been something else he'd sensed? Self-preservation perhaps? She sure looked nothing like dangerous now. Looks could be deceiving, of course, and she was beautiful, perhaps it was only him who… He hesitated.

"What do you mean?" Han argued. "You're not telling me we should leave her here, are you?" He glared at Leia first, then towards the hazy blur he figured was Luke, frowning both from concentration and confusion. Never before had Leia been in the habit of asking anyone's approval when she made her decisions – and least of all Luke's. What was happening here?

"Hey," Lando cut in. "What are you people talking about? Look at that wound! Whatever Luke's doing, it's the only reason she's still alive. No way we can leave her like this!"

"I didn't mean to leave her here either," Leia retorted wearily, the initial elation of their success quickly wearing out, leaving only bone deep weariness. "But that doesn't mean we have to take her with us. Perhaps we could find a place in Mos Eisley or…" She shook her head. "I really don't know. Luke, do you still know any decent people here on Tatooine who could take care of her?"

Luke shook his head slowly, knowing for sure that wasn't the right thing to do. The threat he'd sensed had been quick and sharp but now he felt nothing. As things were, it was the girl who was in danger, not themselves. He made a quick decision.

"I think Lando's right," he told Leia. "Leaving her here just isn't an option. We'll have to take her with us, at least part of the way. She's in a bad condition and I doubt even the _Falcon's_ equipment will be enough to get her well. She'll need solid bacta."

As he spoke he felt the confirmation, absolute and reassuring; this _was_ the right thing to do. It didn't fit with the previous warning he'd picked up, but then the Force seldom made sense in advance.

Leia nodded in reluctant agreement and Lando beamed. He, for one, had no scruples about taking such a beauty onboard, and Luke would have bet his lightsaber that the gambler would probably volunteer to tend her as well. Han shrugged, doing his best to look unconcerned as he started back towards Chewie at the controls. Leia slipped in under his arm to give him discreet guidance. "Watch the step, laser brain," she murmured in his ear.

Luke was left to stare at that pale, beautiful face, chewing at what he already suspected might have been his own imagination. And why did he have the feeling that his world had just turned upside down once more?


	5. Chapter 5

**Quagmire **

Chapter 5 - Among the enemy

* * *

It took her a long time to remember where she was. Slowly, Mara blinked sleep from her still-heavy eyes – then reality hit her and she sat abruptly up in alarm. A jolt of pain shot through her at the movement, reminding her of her wound. Heart racing, she glared frantically around her, but calmed down as she realized that she was alone, in what looked like a cabin. She recognized the familiar hum of a hyperdrive. How long had she been unconscious? Only a few discordant glimpses were fresh in her memory; the brown, shaggy fur of the Wookiee, probably carrying her into the ship; someone messing with her wound; Skywalker's calm hands on her temple and chest; and the Princess' voice – "She calls herself Arica, but I don't think that's her real name..."

Mara touched her thigh gingerly. A solid bacta patch was placed over the wound and it didn't hurt that much, at least as long as she kept still. Obviously, she'd been given some kind of painkiller.

Taking a deep breath, Mara swung her legs over the edge of the bunk and planted them on the floor. Pain jolted through her again but it was bearable. She swayed heavily - but she stood. Glancing down her torso, she noted that her daring dance ensemble had been exchanged for a tunic that was anything but. It bagged around her, definitely too big, but was just long enough to be decent.

For a few moments she just stood, trying to gather her dizzy thoughts, attempting to comprehend where she was, and under what circumstances. There was no sign that she was kept prisoner and when she scanned the cabin she found her few belongings neatly gathered on a chair; her skimpy dancing dress actually took up less space than her shoes and accessories. The small vibroknife that she'd kept hidden in her leg bracelet was on the top of the pile.

Tentatively, Mara held a hand out before her and realized it was shaking. She moaned in frustration; how was she going to take out a Jedi in this condition? Then, slowly, woke in her the understanding that she might not have to, not yet If nobody had considered her a threat this far, she might be able to bide her time. After all, why shouldn't the rebels buy her cover as a dancing girl? Maybe she would even be able to increase her chances by lulling her target into false security? If Skywalker was on the ship, that was – so far she had no confirmation that he was even in the same system.

Obviously, information had to be her first priority. Mara picked up the vibroblade, just in case, and hid it carefully at the small of her back, under the waistband of her underwear The possibility of biding her time aside, this might be her only opportunity to complete her mission, and in that case she'd better be prepared.

Slowly, doggedly, she limped out of the cabin. The first area she entered was empty at the moment but looked like the engineering bay. A glance at the ship chrono told her it was early morning standard time. Most of the crew was probably asleep yet. Moving from the bay to a corridor, she noted low voices from its far end, and steered toward the sound.

"Don't mention it."

Skywalker's voice – he was here! And was that Solo answering him? She hunkered outside the hatch to listen.

"Oh, yes I will. That carbon freeze was the closest thing to dead there is. And it wasn't just sleepin', it was a big, wide awake Nothin'. I won't forget you came for me, Luke!"

He got no answer and through the door Mara could sense the young Jedi's embarassment. Apparently she had caught him and Solo in a sensitive moment. She hesitated, freshly unsure what to do…

Skywalker, however, had already sensed her. "Hey!" The hatch slid open and she faced blue eyes, looking straight at her. "You're up already? You shouldn't be, you know."

Mara limped in and leaned against the door. "Didn't mean to interrupt anything." She noticed that the Jedi had changed his black clothing to beige, standard fatigues. Sitting at the battered, circular table in the dilapidated hold he looked like any serviceman, even though his hair was a bit too long to fit Imperial standards.

Both men seemed slightly embarrassed at the realization that she had caught a snatch of their conversation, but Skywalker recovered faster. "It's fine. But you should be careful, really. That's a nasty cut you've got there." He started over to her.

Mara scowled at him. She needed to know what hid behind that polite façade; did Skywalker and his friend considered her a threat – or was she was just an inconvenience that had stuck to their boots like a wad of gum. She needed to know how far their hospitality would go, and in her experience, the best way to see the true face of people was to provoke them. Irritated people didn't think clearly "So I should just stay in bed then? Wait for you to tell me whatever I want to know? Like where you're taking me, for example?"

The Jedi didn't look the least offended. "That wasn't what I meant. Please sit down." He slid a supporting arm around her shoulders and led her towards the holochess table where Solo sat. Mara registered that he appeared completely spontaneous and without any ulterior motives in his bodycontact, certainly a far cry from her would-be Devaronian wooer, but then he was probably used to women swarming around him. Hero of the Rebellion and all.

"There. That's better isn't it?" He helped her to sit down and smiled encouragingly, a smile that Mara was careful not to return.

"Well?" she prompted instead.

"All right." Skywalker and glanced at Solo, who returned the look with meticulous innocence. Evidently the Corellian was able to see again but quite happy to leave this chore solely to his friend. The Jedi clared his thoat "I wouldn't say we're exactly _taking_ you anywhere, but…Well, of course we're _going_ somewhere and since we couldn't leave you behind in the condition you were in, we decided to take you with us." He hesitated a little. "I guess we should start with apologizing in case we misjudged the situation?"

Mara stared at him, incredulous. Was he actually sitting there, excusing himself for saving her life? He couldn't be serious, could he? Yet, as she studied him, all she could detect was earnest concern.

"It's all right", she mumbled when the silence started to stretch towards the embarrassing. "I guess I should thank you for saving my life."

"No problem. That was the least we could do."

She eyed him coldly. "Just about. Everybody else on that barge died. Why not me too?"

Skywalker wetted his lips, stared at the floor. "Good question," he mumbled. "I just couldn't spare the lives of more, and I didn't know who I should have tried to save..."

He swallowed hard and met her eyes again. "You were alone on the deck, and when we saw you and Leia said that you'd helped her earlier…Well…" He looked away again. "I know one life can't count for so many others, but …"

"Oh, stop it, Luke!" Solo exploded. "You risked your life out there and you came within an ace of losing it yourself. Everybody on that barge could have bet on another podracer but they chose sticking to Jabba, an' I'm telling you now, kid, they knew just what kind of crap they were climbing in bed with. If you start beating yourself up over _them_…!" He stabbed a finger towards his younger friend. "Besides, you had warned them! All of them! If they didn't take you seriously because you're still a kid and because they don't believe in that Jedi stuff, that's not your fault!"

Skywalker shifted uncomfortably. For a moment Mara considered whether she should argue against Solo to see if she could push the Jedi further but she decided not to. Antagonism was often the best way to make people show their real face, but at the moment her first priority was to remain on the ship; she couldn't affort to rub anyone the wrong way.

Tired as she was, she couldn't trust herself to notice everything, but this far she'd seen no sign of either man being wary about her, at least no more than one would be of any stranger. Skywalker seemed outright symphatetic towards her, and Solo didn't act uncomfortable that she could tell. Well, that was good.

Changing the subject, she fingered at her tunic. "Whose clothes am I wearing?"

"Mine," Skywalker replied, obviously grateful for the break. "It… " Then he saw her eyebrows rise and went sunburn red. "Uh… it was Leia who put them on you… I mean…"

Solo rubbed his chin to conceal another sly smile, and Mara had to follow suit. Was _this_ the guy the dancing girls had swarmed around? He had less of the ladykiller in him than he did the farmboy fresh off the farm; as easy to embarrass as he was hard to offend. She filed the knowledge for later use, then promptly forgot about it as a wave of discomfort and dizziness washed through her again.

What she needed was to postpone her mission, if at all possible; the little strength she'd had when she woke up was rapidly leaving her. She felt as weak as a pitten. Even sitting upright made her close to fainting. At least she'd now been able to confirm that these men didn't seem to regard her as a threat. She had better lay her cards as well as she could and then get some rest.

Skywalker eyed her worriedly. "You really shouldn't be up yet. We don't have any advanced medical equipment at this ship and…"

"You're a Jedi, aren't you? Didn't you heal me on the skiff? With the Force?" She modulated her face and voice to fake reluctant admiration, curious if he'd go for the bait.

"Naah… Healing isn't my strong point, not yet anyway." He blushed again. _You could just about have taken flirting lessons from the Devaronian, Jediboy_, Mara reflected wryly.

Solo shook his head in exasperation. "I think we oughta get this gorgeous thing back to bed, huh Luke?" Tilting his head at Mara, he added insolently, "Or maybe she'd rather just _you_ took her back to bed..."

Mara ordered herself not to glower too much. The Corellian at least had noticed her feigned admiration and probably could be persuaded to let her stay a while longer. But she'd better not overdo it; nothing worked more against credibility than overflowing interest. And there was also the fact that the edges of her vision were going somewhat fuzzy. She looked at her own feet. "Maybe that's a good idea," she muttered, annoyingly aware of _how_ good it actually was.

Skywalker was up in a hurry, helping her to her feet and quelling Solo's snickers with a glare. Mara took great pains to lean as heavily onto him as credibility allowed, maximizing their bodycontact. Despite his earlier bashfulness, he seemed bothered by neither her weight nor the contact, only eager to help.

"Can you walk?" he inquired when they came to the corridor.

Mara couldn't prevent her voice from shaking when she tried to lean on her leg. "Mmhh…"

He hesitated a moment, then slipped his arm from her shoulders down her back. The next moment he'd bent down and swept her up from the floor and into his arms. Mara stared at him, eyes widening and suddenly chokingly clueless about how to react. She had never been carried by a man in her entire life. Like some holovid heroine!

He didn't look down at her but stared straight ahead, a faint blush on his cheeks the only sign that he didn't haul scantily clad girls around on a regular basis. In obstinate silence he took her to her cabin and Mara decided the trip was too short and her strength too depleted to protest. The hatch whirred open and he laid her down on the bunk. The relief of lying down chased away all other thoughts.

"Thanks," she muttered, having no idea what to make out of it.

"Don't mention it. And if you need anything…" He placed a comlink on the table. "Just call if you need something. It's better than you running around the ship before you're stronger."

She looked at the com. "That was kind of you, Skywalker. Your name _is_Skywalker, isn't it?"

He shrugged self-consciously. "Yeah, but just call me Luke."

"Thank you, Luke." She looked him straight in the eye, trying to penetrate to the man behind all those confusing impressions. "My name is Mara Jade."

He smiled a little and took her hand. "Nice to meet you, Mara."

Giving her hand a friendly squeeze, he rose and turned to leave, then stopped. "Oh, and by the the way, you won't need that vibroblade onboard this ship. Not in self-defence anyway."

Mara caught her breath. _How had he…?_ Was it when he carried her? But she could sense no weariness or hostility from him now either, only that steady flow of goodwill through the Force.

He smiled reassuringly. "It's all right," he told her. "I'd be a bit shaky too, if I were you. But please take my word that you're among friends. Now, try to get some sleep." He turned and left.

As the door closed behind him, it abruptly hit Mara that she had actually told him her real name, and just how stupid that was. But she was far too tired to work up any real repentance, nor could she manage to fathom the possible implications of this involuntary slip. Exhaustion overtook her and she fell asleep again.

. . .

Han was back; everything they had been working on and hoping for the past six months had worked out. Now, things should have been back to normal, Luke mused…

They weren't, exactly.

"So whose bright idea was it to reconfigure my Number Three hold to cabins?" Han demanded, clearly unamused.

There was a few seconds of silence, then Luke cleared his throat. "Mine. I thought that nowadays you seldom use it for smuggling anyway, and if you'd do, it could easily be restored the way it was."

"Captain's quarters, huh?" Solo muttered, eyeing the newly segregatedcabin with skeptical eyes. He'd never been a man of luxury.

The night before, when they all had been exhausted, Han had insisted on sleeping in the crew bunkroom as usual, claiming he couldn't sleep without Chewie's snoring, and so miraculously the renovations his ship had gone through had somehow evaded his notice for the first twenty-four hours. Now, however, he was two days out of the carbonite, had successfully confirmed his relationship with Leia, settled a wary peace with Lando, and thanked Luke; the next thing on his mind was his ship. In fact, at the moment, this was the _only _thing on his mind.

"Everybody needs a cabin of her own, huh? What do you all think this crate is, a frigging luxury liner?" Solo glared almost with animosity at the wall set up straight through the old third hold; their involuntary passenger Mara Jade was sleeping behind it in the smaller of the two newly built cabins.

Luke sighed and remembered how Han had protested years ago when they had just escaped from the Death Star and Luke had insisted that Number Two hold be rearranged for use as a private cabin for the Princess. Luke had gotten his way back then, but Han had never ceased to gripe about it. The past months, when Leia wasn't aboard, Lando had quickly seized the opportunity to use the private cabin himself. At the sight of his his crestfallen face when Leia sometimes joined the crew, Luke had at some point suggested that they take the next step and make cabins out of number three hold as well.

Leia had naturally seen the potential of the captain having a personal cabin instead of sharing with the rest of the crew, and with Lando's eager support they had managed to induce a reluctant Chewie, who kept worrying about Han's probable reaction when he got back. It was of course Leia who was the clinching argument for this new arrangement, and Luke had no doubt that Han would agree after taking that particular argument into consideration, but it would take even a gorgeous Princess time to convince Han Solo that the remodelling was not some sort of violation against his first love. Luke sighed and rubbed his nose bridge. He had no doubt that Leia and Han had already shared a night or two, but that had been months ago, when they had been closely entwined during the dramatic escape from Hoth, and now they needed their own time to settle things between them. At the moment, given how obsessed Han was with his darling freighter, the very idea of him having female company on the _Falcon_ seemed more distant than Bakura.

"Look, Han," he told him, staying with the obvious. "We can always change it back whenever you want to. But admit that it's a pretty smart arrangement, now we have a wounded passenger and all."

"Hmph. She could sleep in Number Two with Leia. That way someone could keep an eye on her."

"And if she turned out to be a threat you'd like Leia to sleep next to her?" Luke couldn't help the abrupt edge in his voice, and Solo squirmed.

"Of course not," Han muttered rubbing his hand over his mouth. "Of course not."

Luke looked down, a bit embarrassed at his own rising temper. _Control. Remember control._

"Hey, kid…" The Corellian glanced at him. "You're kinda edgy these days, aren't you?"

Luke heard the worry in his friend's voice and looked up, all calm again. "I am?"

Han eyed him for a second, then shrugged away. "Well, maybe not. I dunno, Luke. You're just…changed, somehow…"

A slight chill run down Luke's back. He was, wasn't he? Han was his best friend, he should be able to tell…

"Not really," Luke denied, willing his voice to be even, not ready to take this up yet. "It's just – well, you know, when it's something about Leia, then we're all a bit protective, aren't we? And edge, well... Maybe I've finally managed to get a better grip on things. Maybe it was about time?"

He managed to smile sheepishly at the end, and that eliciteda smile onto Han's face too.

"Well, about time, yeah. Who managed the miracle? The same guy who taught you that Force business?"

"The same, yeah." Luke kept his answer clipped. He didn't want Han to get the impression he could just talk away about this, about the "guy" or Luke's alteration, but he also didn't want him to think he could _never _ask about it. That was the good thing about Han. When he wasn't running high, he was more perceptive than he cared to acknowledge; he would get the hint.

For instance, Luke had noticed that the Corellian hadn't brought Leia up yet. Last time they'd been together they had been rivals. Now Han stood as the winner – yet Luke had been the man present the past months, and Han hadn't had time to talk properly with Leia yet. Luke could actually feel the buzzing anticipation in the air.

Luke took a soundless, calming breath. There was nothing to hide, he reminded himself. Truth was their ally, things would turn out fine…

He suddenly realized the Corellian's eyes on him, searching. Luke managed a smile and returned to the recent topic. "All that Jedi training gives me a bagful of tricks that can come in handy from time to time."

"Can't say no to that," Han drawled, "after what you did at that skiff. Now, don't get me wrong. I still don't buy all that Force stuff your old Kenobi came with, but… Well, as long as it works…" He shrugged, then paused with a freshly disturbed expression. "It does, doesn't it?"

Luke blinked. "Does what?"

Han waved impatiently. "Work. All the time, I mean. Not just sometimes, so that next time you're in deep trouble it suddenly doesn't work anymore and that's where the poodoo really hits the fan?"

He obviously did not approve of his friend messing with things he hadn't tested and endorsed himself. Luke felt a jolt of warmth at that. "You mean like batteries that run low? No, the Force's not like that. It is there, all the time."

"And no side effects?"

'_If once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny.'_

Suddenly the smile was much harder to keep up. "Well…" Luke avoided, "I'd better not let it get to my head."

Han frowned, puzzled, then lit up. "I'll help you with that." He gave the younger man a quick punch in the stomach.

Luke deliberately didn't parry and the punch was just heavy enough to make him lose his breath for a second. "Thanks," he managed when he caught it again. "I knew I could trust you, Han."

"Hey," Solo grinned, his old smug self again. "What are friends for?"

. . .

After dinner – Lando had been the chef and his questionable achievements at _Falcon's_ old processing unit had eased the banter into a wonderful coming-together between old friends - Leia put her arm around Han and pulled him with her, away from the others. They had a lot to catch up on, and she still felt a bit awkward showing her feelings in front of everyone. Everything was still so new, so much still remaining unsaid.

"Strange to see the kid so, well, 'grown up', sort of." Han gave Leia a lopsided smile to hide his bewilderment.

Leia looked almost proud. "He really has grown a lot these past months, Han."

Han gave her a strange look. "Yeah, well, I almost miss the green, wide-eyed brat. He seems so serious now. Even when he laughs, he's somehow... still serious."

Leia bit her lip. "He's been through a lot, Han. Jedi training, but other things too."

Solo straightened up frowning, and eyed her inquiringly. "What do you mean? What has he been through?"

There was a strange mixture of feelings pouring from him; inquisitiveness, strong protectiveness as well as an edge that came of his own challenged pride and that made Leia consider her words carefully.

"Actually, I don't know much about it, Han. And I think, perhaps, you'd better talk with himself about it. He's told me a few things, and I've guessed about some others, but…" She shrugged. "Luke's a bit of a mystery to every one nowadays."

When seeing his face she added quickly, "But he's still the good old Luke at bottom."

"Sure," Han muttered, "sure…"

Leia eyed him thoughtfully. Han was, not surprisingly, struggling to come back to his old self. It had gone smooth so far, but there would most likely be drawbacks. Despite his casual, careless attitude, Han was as proud as they came, and he had been helpless as a wampa cub outside its mother's pouch when frozen in carbonite; having to rely on help from others and owe them one wasn't really his cup of caf, even if they were his friends. Particularly not when the one he owed most was the boy he had cared for and treated like a younger brothe. To tell him about the many things that had happened to Luke – his encounter with Vader, his loss of a hand, his hidden pain and darkened mood - would only reinforce that feeling of guilt. The best thing would probably be to give Han time and to take things as they came.

Besides, it wasn't Leia's business to talk about Luke's personal affairs. It wasn't proper, it certainly wasn't smart since she after all knew far too little of them, and it was downright stupid for _her _to plunge into it, considering that the two men had been rivals for her affections for several years.

Leia suppressed a sigh. Things would come out, but the longer they took, the better it would probably be. Besides, she knew a perfect way to distract her space captain. There was no need for them to socialize with _everybody _the _whole_ trip…

"Han," she murmured, and let a husky tone slip into her voice as she pulled him with him through the corridor. "I need you to do something for me…"

. . .

Luke watched the hatch closing behind Leia and Han, his mind easily drifting away from Lando and Chewie's enthusiasticsmugglers' debate about the best way to come through a flock of Neebray manthas in the Kaliida Nebula.

Leia and Han; at least that felt right. He sighed quietly, warm relief floating through him. Somewhere deep down he'd feared for his own reaction of actually seeing Leia close to someone else, but fortunately he'd been proven completely wrong. No matter how deeply Luke cared for Leia he could see, actually _see _that the spark between her and Han was something of its own league and it felt good deep down to see Leia so happy. Han too, for that matter. Luke grinned to himself, turning his attention back to his comrades at the table.

"…and then, once you're free there's no delay. If you loiter around for even half a second, then you've spoiled your chance!" Lando was expounding.

Luke's smile faded again, Lando's words bringing his mind back to his own problems. He should have been in his X-wing by now, heading for Dagobah and Yoda. He knew that absolutely. So why was he instead on the _Falcon_, on the way back to _Home One_ and the Alliance?

It was that girl, Mara. She might have bled to death unless Luke had stayed. At least that had been the case until they had gotten her into the _Falcon_ where she could be patched together and treated with bacta, getting her away from imminent danger.

By that time they had already been in hyperspace, Luke's X-wing in tow, and he'd felt too tired and too relieved to insist on leaving. He'd told himself that it really didn't matter if he went back to the fleet first; actually he'd be able to make it to Dagobah more conveniently from _Home One_'s present position by following the Rimma Trade Route close by.

Luke suppressed a sigh, knowing full well that he was rattling off excuses. The simple truth was that he was flatout scared of facing Yoda, even though he felt a bit better about things now thanks to their latest successful adventure. Looking back, he hadn't done half bad on Tatooine. He'd panicked at the rancor of course – why hadn't he just pushed that button with the Force? – but otherwise he'd managed all right. He'd stayed in control, the Force had flowed perfectly through him, and as a result they were all safe now. Perhaps he shouldn't be so afraid to use the Force? After all, the Dark Side hadn't claimed him this far. And even Jabba had bought his claim to be a Jedi knight - wasn't that an ultimate test in a way? Perhaps he would actually be able to pull off this whole Jedi-thing?

There was the draw-back at the skiff, of course – Luke had absolutely no idea why he hadn't been able to grab his lightsaber when Artoo ejected it. Maybe it had got entangled in something – he couldn't quite imagine into what, but surely that was possible? Or maybe he had simply been too unfocused. With a touch of unease he suddenly remembered Han's worried question about the Force earlier – and his own reassuring; "It is there, all the time." Well, he didn't doubt the Force, but perhaps he should pay extra attention to his own concentration?

Still, the saber had reached him fine when he called for it the second time. No doubt he needed much more training and he still had few answers and many questions, but from this point things looked rather brighter. Luke yawned. And after a good night sleep he would feel better still, he decided. Now that he thought about it, it occurred to him that he nowadays generally slept better in the _Falcon's_ bunkroom than he did back in his cabin on _Home One_. Probably because this ship was full of good memories. The thought reminded him of the practical necessity to fall asleep before Chewie tonight too; the Wookiee's snoring could have split the ship with its sonic force.

Excusing himself, Luke withdrew, leaving Lando and Chewie to their debate. He checked in at the cockpit where Artoo and Threepio were socializing with the _Falcon's_ computer in their travel through hyperspace. All was well with the droids, except that their joints had become so full of sand when they fell from the barge that every movement they now made produced a horrible squeal that could have vied with an Imperial torture droid for sheer agony. Luke left again for the bunkroom with a silent promise to clean them up the next day.

As he passed the newly rearranged third hold, he stopped for a moment outside the cabin of their unexpected passenger, carefully reaching out for its occupant through the Force. As he did this, he took meticulous care not to even brush the cabin nextdoor where Leia and Han no doubt were engaged in activities that required total privacy. But Mara Jade was sound asleep, just as he'd reckoned, her sense dim and relaxed, yet somehow glowing. A bit like Leia's presence felt to him, Luke reflected in surprise.

Not surprisingly, he couldn't sense even a shade of danger now that she was sleeping. Maybe he'd just been imagining yesterday on the skiff? Luke frowned, trying to remember all the conflicting images he'd sensed from her. Something had happened when he had looked into those brilliant eyes – something he didn't understand at all, but had a nagging feeling that he should be able to make more out of. She rang a deeper cord, somehow - and it left him at a complete loss of references.

The situation taken into consideration, the threat, danger, or whatever he'd sensed from her was hardly surprising. Whoever this girl was, she was someone used to dealing with scum of the worst kind, as the hardened steadiness of her green gaze indicated. She'd been in great distress yesterday, wounded and without a clue whether she was among enemies or not. It was only natural that she'd expected the worst. In her case, Luke would probably have reacted the same way. And today, well, she'd hidden a vibroblade under her clothing when exiting her cabin, but when she'd been reassured that she was safe, she'd calmed down.

At least until Luke had started carrying her around. Luke blushed as he remembered what he'd done. In the moment it had felt like the most natural thing to do. She'd seemed so small and fragile and he'd sensed her pain so very clearly, but he probably shouldn't have done that. He could imagine that she was thinking all kind of things of him already.

Luke continued to his quarters, where he pulled his boots off and stretched out on his bunk, clothes still on. His thought went back to the other night, in Jabba's dungeon and he wondered if Mara really was the same girl who so fiercely and successfully had chased her antagonist away. If she was, then she also been the one who'd had the courage to attempt to help her friend in similar trouble. And Leia had told him she'd shot a guard who'd attacked her at Jabba's barge…

Was she a possible ally? Or the complete opposite - a threat – like he'd sensed?

The thing was also that the threat – or whatever it was – was only part of what he had sensed when he's met her gaze yesterday. If he was to put it into words he'd say that he'd been able to see into her very being! Unfortunately, it had been so quick that he hardly had an idea of what he'd seen there, in her soul – if that indeed had been what had happened. Recalling the moment he remembered the sensation of an impressive strength, vast loneliness, integrity and a fierce, almost desperate determination.

Luke sighed, knowing exactly what Lando or Han would say if he told them that he'd been able to see into the depths of Jade's soul; even Leia would probably have a fit at that!

Maybe they were right? Maybe he had only been startled by the girl's surprising beauty? She was pretty as a dream, that was sure, and the very way she'd been clad (or more accurately, unclad) when he'd held her in his arms could tempt any man's imagination. Yet, Luke was convinced that while the experience on the skiff had been powerful and entrancing, it had had nothing to do either with lust nor love. He'd been extremely aware of Mara's beauty and body, could still recall the feeling of her slender form in his arms, yet the feeling, the _sense_ of her when he'd met her gaze had been something completely different. If anything, it had actually drawn his attention from her physical appearance.

Oh no, _that_ awareness had appeared only afterwards. As if he didn't have enough personal issues already, with Shira waiting back on _Home One_. Luke closed his eyes, wondering what it was with him and redheads anyway?

. . .

He ran through the desert, feeling it harder and harder to lift his feet as his they sank deeper and deeper into the loose sand. It burned under his feet, though it was dark and the sand should have cooled long ago. The sky above him was starless. He didn't recognize the desert, yet he had a clear feeling it was because he had never been in this region before and not because of the darkness. Suddenly he stopped. Something was waiting for him. Something menacing, brooding, darker than the night itself. He drew a ragged breath, his throat as hot and dry as the sand under him, his face sticky with sweat. As he wiped away the damp, he pushed away some leaves that had plastered to his forehead, dimly realizing he wasn't in the desert anymore but in the dark cave of Dagobah again.

The shadows started to move towards him, slowly closing in. The biggest, the darkest of them so close soon that he would feel it's breathing against his chin, the ragged breathing, his own, the shadow's…

_I am your father…_

With a groan he sat up in the dark, almost banging his head into the bulkhead. Lando, and more notably Chewie, were snoring in the other bunks. Luke moaned quietly and laid down again, trying to slow his galloping heart. He _had_ to return to Yoda. Was he going to have to ask Han to drop out of hyperspace for his sake, or could it wait until they came to _Home One_? Tiredly, Luke sank back in the bunk and closed his eyes again.

He decided to try to meditate the next day. Maybe the Force would grant him insight in what he had to do.


	6. Chapter 6

**Quagmire – Chapter 6**

**Hangfire**

" 'Morning, Lando."

Lando looked quickly up from the navicomputer, still vaguely unnerved by the presence of his old friend; the friend he'd betrayed so stupidly, yet had risked everything to help in the end. He and Han had made peace the day before, but he still felt indebted. Probably it would take some time before things could go back to old, Lando mused. So he only nodded and flashed a big smile, too well practiced to be diminished by nervousness. "Good morning yourself, you old pirate!"

Han's grin in return was maybe a bit constrained but earnest enough. He strolled through the cockpit and slouched down into the Captain's chair, running his hands lightly over the operating panel, cherishing the familiar feeling of it under his palms. The_ Falcon_ was travelling steadily through hyperspace with no need for its captain's guidance, but it felt good to Han to touch the controls, like caressing an old mistress, and he was sure his ship felt the same way. It was good to be home.

"We've done our best to take care of your ship," Lando commented.

_Your ship! Not 'My ship'!_ This was possibly the first time Lando had refrained from pointing out that the _Falcon _had been his ship before he'd lost her to Han in a sabacc game, years ago. He must be feeling awkward as hell if he was avoiding their traditional argument over the freighter. Come to think of it, it made Han feel awkward too, but of course if he pointed it out things would only get worse. Lando had seemed genuinely sorry when he'd apologized yesterday, and he'd helped them at the Pit of Carkoon. Chewie, Leia and Luke had practically been scrambling over each other to explain that Lando had done everything a reasonable being could ask of him in the past months to make up for his mistake at Bespin ... and Han wasn't one to bear a grudge…

"I appreciate that," he replied, trying to keep the tone light and casual. "So, who's been flying her? You and Chewie or..?"

"Me and Chewie mostly. A few times Luke and Leia have used her too." When Han frowned, Lando added nervously, "That Luke, he's a darned good pilot, you know. He flies almost better than me. But don't tell him I said that." Lando tried a grin.

"Uh, yeah, he's pretty good for a kid." Han flickered on a few controls, then added casually, "So, Luke and Leia have been going on some Alliance missions, huh?"

Lando bit his lip. "Quite a few I think, yeah. But she's completely untouched, you know."

Han looked up, sharply. "Who?"

"Well, uh, your pretty bird here," Lando clarified, waving around the cockpit. "We've all been very careful. Not a scratch."

Han seemed to pull himself together. "Oh. Right."

Lando tried to stay on safe ground. "That Luke, he's really responsible too, being so young. Nothing like we were. I'd never guessed he's only in his early twenties, as serious as he is."

"Well, he sure wasn't that serious before," Han muttered to himself

"What?"

"Huh. Nothing…"

. . .

When Mara next woke up, she felt much better. Her leg still ached, but not nearly as much as before, and the dizziness was gone. She was still far from being in top form, but at least she was recovering. Lying still for awhile, she took her time to register her own body and reflect on the situation.

She was on the enemy's ship and she had a job to do – but was she strong enough to do it yet? So far, no one seemed to suspect her true intent, and she could see no reason why they should either. Despite that, the memory of her involuntary slip sent a wave of discomfort through her. Why in Kessel had she told Skywalker her real name? What had she been thinking?

The pathetic answer could only be that she hadn't been thinking at all; she'd simply been too exhausted. And maybe, she had to admit, maybe there was something about Skywalker that put her off-guard too. Mara tended to form her opinion of people quickly and was seldom wrong; but Skywalker had thrown her for a loop. Her immediate impression had actually been that he was earnest, amiable even.

Stupid, stupid, she scolded herself; he wasn't likable, he wasn't honorable, he was committed to the Rebellion, having risen to become one of its leading figures and inspiring millions into crime and treason with his farm-boy-to-hero story. On the top of that he was trying to awake the ancient, traitorous Jedi Order from its grave.

Still – if she'd sent sympatethic feelings back towards him, then Skywalker, being a Jedi, had surely sensed it. Maybe it wasn't that bad? Perhaps he might even be a bit less guarded with her now? Mara rubbed her temples, trying to get her sluggish mind up to speed. She had better get on her feet.

As she swung her legs from the bed, she felt the jolt of pain again but it wasn't as severe as before. Her eyes landed on the chair where her scant belongings still sat folded. A set of tunic and trousers had appeared there, laid beside her own dress. Why had she been put out by Skywalker's mention of the vibroblade yesterday? It had been lying on top of her dancer's dress, and he had of course just looked and noted it was missing. Maybe he had originally even placed it there himself. And here she'd been reacting like he had supernatural abilities… Mara snorted in annoyance at herself. Well, in a way he really did, being a Jedi — She rubbed her temples again. Should she wait? She still wasn't thinking clearly…

A knock on the door made her almost jump. "Come in," she called, automatically moving into reach of the vibroblade.

A shrill squeak from metal joints made her shudder first, then relax as quickly. It was only the golden protocol droid that had served at Jabba's spokesman, stiffly entering with a breakfast tray.

"Good morning, Miss Arica," it announced, with that prissy voice that had made her groan already at Jabba's. "I trust you've been sleeping well?"

"'Morning," Mara mumbled, feeling it was anything but good. And why was the droid still calling her Arica? Had Skywalker failed to mention...? "I could have slept worse, I guess. What is that awful racket you're making? I've never in my life heard a droid make that much noise!"

"Oh?" The droid stopped to peer down its rather bedraggled metal body. "I'm terribly sorry, Miss Arica, but it's the dreadful amount of sand that has jammed into my joints on that horrible planet. As you might recall, my counterpart Artoo Deetoo and I sank deep into a sand dune in the heat of the battle. Unfortunately, our master hasn't had time to clean us yet, but he has promised to do it today. I assure you, I am looking very much forward to it. It is always so salutary to get a thorough cleansing. A nice, good oil bath afterwards would of course add the finishing touch, if you take my meaning, Miss, but I'm afraid that the _Millenium Falcon_ cannot provide such a luxury. However…"

"Thanks," Mara interrupted. "Just place the tray on the table."

"Oh? Very well, Miss." The droid squeaked to the small table and placed the tray on it, then turned and tilted its metal head. "Is there anything else with which I can assist you?"

"No. Yes! You can leave and let me eat my breakfast in peace and quiet."

"Certainly, Miss," the droid beamed, happily unaware that it had been insulted. "It will be my pleasure." In a train of ear-splitting squeals, it toddled out again, closing the door behind it.

Mara shook her head in disbelief. Protocol droids had always gotten on her nerves, almost as much as protocols, but this particular unit took the ryshcate. Besides, with that thing around she needed to be extra careful not to let her accent slip. Mara could speak a number of different accents, most of them a nondescript mix that suggested she might have come from any corner of the galaxy, and she was pretty sure that she hadn't revealed her natural Coruscanti, even when she'd been hurt on the skiff. On the other hand, an ambitious protocol droid could be quite the detective – some even seemed to take a strange pleasure in it – so she'd better stay on her toes.

Her mood in no way lightened, she returned her thoughts to the assignment at hand. She hadn't been given a deadline on this mission; perhaps she could allow herself to wait a couple of days? She had already miscalculated Skywalker once so far. Overestimating her own strength might be the fast track to a second failure.

The thought of her fiasco at the barge sent tendrils of doubt creeping through her. She had never failed before. Time and time again her Master had sent her on special assignments, each more challenging than the next, and Mara had carried them all out to perfection, no failures, no doubts, no hesitation, no questions asked. She'd known since adolescence that nothing less would be acceptable. But now - she should have killed Skywalker on Tatooine – not be sitting wounded in his ship, surrounded by his friends. The very thought made her crumple with shame.

The only reasonable thing to do now would be to contact her Master – but Mara could hardly stand the thought of it. He would be displeased with her, and that to a degree he'd never been before. She shivered slightly, distantly remembering him turning his back on her before; a long time ago, when she was still a child; how utterly lonely she'd been, how she'd sworn never to let him down again…

At this, Mara's determination kicked in; this was a time for action, not whining. She had failed and she had better take whatever punishment she'd deserved without flinching.

Kneeling by the cot, but allowing herself to lean against it for support, she took several calming breaths, centering herself. Then she reached out with her mind; out of the cabin, out of the ship racing steadily through hyperspace; across star systems, one after another until she reached the familiar mind that was her anchor in life, her raison-d'etre, her very purpose.

_"I hear you, child. Is the mission accomplished?"_

Mara shuddered at the sudden, forceful contact, yet she sucked it to herself, like water into parched sand. The mental connection with her Master always had the same impact on her; she was engulfed by his power and his instant demands, yet needed this close contact like oxygen for living.

Steadying herself, she found her inner voice. "_It is not, my Master."_ She hurried to show him the line of events through her mind.

_"I am planning to accomplish my mission as soon as I can be sure of success, Master,"_ she finished. "_But if you wish, I will put my trust in surprise and take action immediately."_

She waited – in dread – for his mighty anger to erupt: she had failed him, there was no way he would…

_"And in doing so, you would waste your own life and deprive me of a servant, however unreliable? Still without any certainty of success? No, my Hand, that will not happen. You will continue to serve me. But know, Mara Jade, that I am disappointed – disappointed indeed!"_

His measured words ripped her even more than his anger would have done and she steeled herself against the painful emotions that welled up inside her; this wasn't the time to weep, she had to listen to her Master…Yet, she could feel that he had silenced inside her and knew he was contemplating the changed situation; he would return when he had decided what she should do. She could do nothing but to wait.

After what felt like an eternity but probably wasn't more than a few minutes, her Master spoke in her mind again. "_Mara Jade!"_

_"Yes, Master?"_

_"You have failed me severely. However, there will still be time to correct your mistake. I have discovered changes in the ripples of the Force. The situation has altered. Your object, to kill Luke Skywalker, is still valid, but its completion must be postponed. You will go with the rebels to their base. There you will assimilate and move yourself into a position that enables you to carry out your mission at short notice. To do this you will have to earn the trust of Skywalker, and preferably his friends as well. Do not shy away from any methods in order to do so. Also, know that you are not the only weapon targeted at Skywalker. Now rest and heal your wounds, child. We will turn this to our favor. You will contact me again when you've reached the Rebel base."_

The next moment he was gone and Mara fought the emptiness inside her chest, the feeling that overwhelmed her every time her Master broke their contact. Their way of communicating was a constant source of pride and joy to her, the ultimate proof that she was special, both in talent and in her Master's esteem. That no one knew of this ability was irrelevant - how other people viewed her didn't matter to her, never had – what counted was solely her Master's opinion of her and her own usefulness to him. She knew that this ability to communicate with her Master through the entire galaxy was the edge that perfected her as his weapon, and that was her purpose in life. She was the Emperor's Hand, his secret advocate and his first servant.

Therefore, it was somehow ironic that it was when she executed this her special skill and the audience was over that she always wanted to weep like a child, like was a part of herself ripped away.

This time, however, she should have had plenty of things to rejoice in, she reminded herself. Her failure had been turned to a purpose and she had confirmed that she wasn't doomed to a suicide mission. Furthermore, she would have a chance to infiltrate a Rebel base – a worthy challenge to a professional spy.

What she needed to do now was to convince the crew of this ship that they could and should take Mara with them to that base – and in order to succeed, it certainly mustn't look like that was what she wanted them to do. She also needed to create a feasible, conceivable alias. She had to create an identity she could wear for a long time to come without showing any cracks, which meant that it shouldn't be too far fetched. Also, her role necessarily had to correspond with the picture of herself that she'd been giving the Rebels this far. Pushing her gloom away, she closed her eyes and started to recapitulate the events of the past few days.

. . .

By afternoon, Luke finally ran out of even flimsy excuses for not cleaning the droids. Having decided to start with Artoo, he was now sitting on the floor in the main hold, his tools already scattered over a good deal of the floor and the holochess table. Threepio was shut down in a corner in order to guarantee some working peace. Luke took a deep breath. He'd cleaned sand from machines a thousand times; no doubt that was why he hated it so much. The faint, rasping sound of sand against metal reminded him of a life gone by that he'd never cared for while he lived it, but that nonetheless had been taken from him far too roughly and abruptly. Luke sighed. He didn't want to think about his past now.

On the other hand, when he thought about the future it seemed equally confusing. He had tried to meditate this morning and it had brought him momentary peace, but hadn't really cleared anything. He'd seen himself, Vader and the cave – a familiar scene by now. He'd seen Leia and Han, even Lando and Chewie in haze and white corridors. And he'd seen the girl, Mara Jade, watching him with those penetrating eyes. What was the Force trying to tell him? Was it trying to tell him anything at all? He'd even seen Shira reaching out for him, but disappearing in something like shadowy mists, the feeling of danger closing in. People and mists. What was he supposed to make of that? Luke shook his head, remembering last time he'd allowed himself to be led by visions of the future – it had gained him nothing but trouble.

Speaking of trouble... Luke started to detach Artoo's shielding plate, his thoughts going back to Shira, a problem that was about to jump back on his radar as soon as he got back to _Home One_. As her commanding officer he'd been obliged to keep her at an arm lengths distance, never considering a possible relationship between them to be more than a far-out dream. But now her promotion and new squadron command meant that she would leave the Rogues – probably had already – and that altered their situation decisively.

Pondering the past months, Luke couldn't help blushing when he recalled Shira's many, unveiled demonstrations of her interest in him. More than once Luke had found himself retreating when the sexual undertones in their banter had gotten dangerously close to becoming overtones. Still, even if he didn't particularly enjoy being cornered, he'd always recognized it as a part of the good-natured banter that came with the turf in the squadron – and he admired her strength and spirit. He knew for sure that she was one of the best and most capable fighter pilots he'd ever met; cool under pressure, sharp and resourceful, unfailingly cheerful despite the worst predicaments. Some months ago, she had accompanied him on a mission where they both had been trapped into an ambush. Despite the desperate situation Shira had kept her tongue as swift and accurate as her fire. They made a good team and he enjoyed being around her. And she was attractive. Very attractive.

Her shining eyes and soft lips at his departure were still vivid in his memory. Why the ninth hell hadn't he kissed her back then? Gods, he was such a clown when it came to these things! His finger slipped on the scouring blade he'd been using on Artoo; he sucked the cut irritably. If he'd made a move on Shira before he'd left on this mission he… Well, at least he'd have made the decision and wouldn't be obsessing about it now!

Luke sighed. Why was this so hard anyway? He _still_ wasn't in a good position to start a relationship – look at all the reasons he'd quoted to Wedge. Another commitment was the last thing he needed; his Jedi training and Alliance duties were already battling for more than he reasonably could give. It didn't matter that Shira was a magnificent temptation with her knowing smile, her mischievous eyes and curvaceous –

_Stop it already, Skywalker! _He was after all supposed to be a Jedi, and Jedi – as Master Yoda had done his best to beat through his thick skull – were first and foremost in control of themselves.

Besides, there was that other thing about Shira, something that he couldn't quite pin down and often forgot in the blaze of her vibrant personality, which tended to blind everybody to her faults. It did happen when Shira got too outgoing that Luke got a feeling that she was biting off more than she could chew, and he could sense an aggression behind her light exterior; her sharp wit and sarcasm would take too relentless a turn, even close to the callous. He'd tried to understand her better using the Force several times, but somehow she kept slipping from him, leaving him persistently uncertain.

Luke frowned, scratching more stubbornly at a groove full of packed sand on Artoo's dome. He knew that Shira's childhood had been hard and merciless, forcing her to learn to fight in order to survive. Maybe Shira's ability to elude his Force probes might be connected to this fact; perhaps she had been through such hard experiences that she'd been forced to shut part of herself off completely. Perhaps even she didn't know how to reach those sides of her personality?

Be that as it may, Shira's faults weren't enough to make Luke doubt that she was, or could be, the best thing that had ever happened to him. Shouldn't he count himself lucky that a girl like her even laid her eyes on him? And unless he was completely off-base (always a possibility), she seemed interested in much more than a fling, which suited Luke fine; he'd had enough of the girls who wanted to score the Hero of the Rebellion but took no interest in the actual man. Ok, he didn't exactly _know_ that Shira cared for the man either... but she acted like she did, and it wasn't like they hadn't known each other for a while now.

But how far would that caring go? If he told her the truth… about Vader? Assuming it _was_ the truth, of course. How many of his friends would stand by him if it got out? People had become more wary of him in the past months, and that was only because they had superstitions about Jedi. What would they think if it turned out he was the son of a Sith?

And if he really was...how long could he keep them all in the dark?

Han already suspected something was up; Luke's restraint these days, developed over the course of months, no doubt appeared sudden and strange to the Corellian who'd spent them all unconscious. Luke really tried to be open and cheery, but he did a poor job when his good spirits didn't come spontaneously. Last evening had been nice, almost like old times, but already today he could feel Han's eyes on him again when he thought Luke didn't see.

Maybe he should tell Han? Tell him everything? After all, Han was his best friend! Wouldn't that be the best solution?

Hey Han, guess what I've found out? Darth Vader is probably my father. He told me himself just after he cut my hand off. I'd gladly cut off my other hand too if it could make it untrue.

Luke shook his head and sighed, tossing the scouring blade back into the box of tools and groping for the lube. Not really a good approach either. Han probably didn't even know about Luke's lost hand yet, half-blind as he'd been the first day. Even discussing something as plain and factual as a battle injury seemed impossibly hard now.

At that moment, Leia appeared through the hatch and sent him the most radiant of smiles; Luke felt his mood lighten instantly. He smiled back to her. "Happy?"

She nodded, came over to him and gave him a hug. Luke's heart gave a bounce; seeing Leia like this was all he needed to be happy himself. Why was he so comfortable with Leia, when he never could be at ease with Shira?

_Easy answer, Skywalker; you're not hitting on Leia anymore, that's why. _Luke suppressed another sigh and turned his attention firmly to Artoo. If he didn't get these two cleaned up before they got back to the Fleet, he probably wouldn't have another chance until the end of the war.

. . .

By afternoon, ship time, Mara felt comfortable enough with both her plan and her own strength – and frustrated enough by the idle solitude – to leave her cabin. She found Skywalker and the Princess lounging in the main hold. The Jedi was obviously cleaning his droids; the golden protocol droid sat deactivated in a corner, thank the Force, while components from the R2 unit were spread on the floor around him. Both humans looked up as Mara entered. Skywalker waved with the spanner and smiled amiably, looking much more light-hearted than she'd seen him so far. "Hey! Good morning!"

Mara raised her eyebrows and glanced at the Princess who also granted her a kindly smile. "Hello. Mara, isn't it?" A little mischief glinted in the corner of her dark eyes, almost as if the two of them were some sort of secret partnership.

Mara didn't smile back. If she wanted these people to really trust her, she couldn't allow herself to appear too trustful herself. She fixed her scowl on the Jedi again. "Morning? I thought it was late afternoon?"

He blinked, but quickly found his ground, once again failing to be offended by her abrasiveness. "Anytime you wake up it's technically morning, isn't it? That's what the captain of this ship claims, anyway. Hey, you look great compared to before!"

She glared at him, this time with total sincerity, as she made herself a place at the holochess table. "Really?"

He blushed. "I only meant …"

The Princess seemed to find their exchange amusing. "Relax, Mara. You don't have to watch out for Luke. Lando's a completely different matter, I don't answer for him, but Luke is as good as they get. He won't try anything."

Mara arched an eyebrow. "So your tastes don't run towards females, Skywalker?"

Organa's eyes widened , Skywalker winced and Mara hid a smug smile. She relished, for once on an undercover mission, not having to play a giddy airhead. Actually, she had deliberately developed a role this time where she could be almost entirely herself. It was by far the smartest approach, as she would most likely have to maintain it for a long time. She had to keep her made-up background story in mind, suppress some parts of herself while boosting some others up, but that was about it. She preferred staying aloof to being sycophantic – and her instinct told her she'd appear more trustworthy that way as well.

"No?" Unaffected by the lack of answer, Mara turned her attention elsewhere, her eyes stopping on a bowl of biscuits.

Skywalker gained his mental footing again and hurried to shift topic. "You must be hungry?"

"I'm starving."

"You'll need more than those, then. Take some, I'll go find something else…" He got to his feet and hurried out.

Mara started chewing on a biscuit, then glanced innocently at Organa who was watching her, not all too approvingly. "Something I said?"

The Princess' voice was level but Mara had a distinct feeling that only ingrained diplomatic instincts prevented her temper from flairing. "I think you know perfectly well what you said."

Turning to look straight at the Princess, Mara proceeded to ooze sarcasm. "I'm delighted that you have confidence in my intelligence. We'll come along well, then, I'm sure."

Organa refused to rise to the provocation. "Well, you helped me in the palace by telling me some truths. So let me return that favor and tell you some other truths - after all this is _my_ territory." She paused a moment, letting her words sink in. "Rule number one is, that here, you behave nicely towards other people. You do that, partly because that's the thing that will bring yourself further, partly because that's the only decent thing to do. But when it comes to Luke you also do that because you owe him nothing less. He saved your life back there, in case you didn't notice."

Mara rose her eyebrows. "And now I'm supposed to 'show my gratitude'? Is that what you mean?"

"Of course not!" Organa gasped in sudden shock. "Is that what you've been used to?"

Mara shrugged and avoided the Princess' eyes, trying to hide her satisfaction and instead look touched on the raw. This conversation was going exactly as she'd hoped.

Princess Leia pulled herself together again. "Well, that's not how it works here …and certainly not with Luke."

"Ok, if you say so," Mara muttered. "But if he's in for girls, why not? Is he pious or something?"

"He's…" Organa searched for words. "He's just a decent man."

"He seems like a farm boy to me."

"He is. A farm boy. And he's also the most decent man I've ever met." There was something in the Princess' voice, a respect, that made Mara look up. She got the feeling Leia Organa didn't bestow her respect lightly.

The gazes of the two women met and for a few moments they regarded each other. Then Mara looked down again, nodding reluctantly. "I'll remember that," she felt herself forced to say.

Skywalker returned within minutes with a plate full of different snacks. None it was fresh, of course, but it looked like he had opened quite a few sealant tabs for her sake. Mara suppressed a wave of sudden discomfort, grunted a 'thanks' and began to eat.

She felt slightly dizzy again despite the medicines, and that irked her. Also, Organa's words nagged her and made her reconsider what she wanted to achieve with her signals. Was the Jedi really such a nicey? Mara had never reproached herself for playing on the strings nature so generously had given her. Through her short but equally intense career her looks had saved her life many times and simplified her job ten times more often. Now, her Master had ordered her to gain Skywalker's confidence and playing on those advantages, at least to some measure, would no doubt be smart in order to accomplish her mission.

However, if he was this committed type that Organa suggested, he might involve himself more deeply than most of her targets, and for some reason that thought made her uneasy. Skywalker was a target that was to be eliminated, and Mara absolutely detested when a target developed deeper feeling towards his nemesis. That had already happened once, and nothing would ever make her forget what she'd felt like afterwards.

Mara frowned at her plate. She had no idea how much time would pass before she got the order to kill Skywalker, but it would be bad tactics to expose herself to a weakness she knew she had from the start. Wisdom dictated that she play on the Jedi's weaknesses instead. Tease him and bite him off. Let him know she was trouble, but not what kind. That would be the best way to go. Her instinctive abrasiveness not only got people's attention, but kept it. And while they might tell themselves they didn't like the person so studiously grating on their nerves, a sudden change in attitude would always bring them out of balance and spark interest again.

Meanwhile, she would do well in keeping her moral high ground when among these rebels. _Play exactly as fair as your opponents – _that was a motto she'd adapted from one of her former teachers and had made good use of since. She had a feeling she might truly need to stick to it for the time to come…

She ate in silence. Skywalker had returned to his work with the droid, the Princess deepened herself in a datapad. Neither seemed to feel any need for conversation with each other, not even with herself there as deadweight. Though she could find no hints that the two were or ever had been lovers, they clearly shared some indefinable closeness that was nearly as intimate. It imbued the hold with a sense of peace. After some time, however, Organa excused herself and left. She gave them a half-worried glance, but apparently her need to pay the Corellian a visit outweighed her concern.

Mara refocused on Skywalker. He was a glove on his right hand and she recalled that he'd worn it yesterday when carrying her, too. For a moment she wondered about it, then remembered the burned hole she'd seen on the back of his hand during the barge fight.

Obviously not in as much mental turmoil as she, Skywalker seemed completely absorbed in his work. He was even whistling a little. His droid was turned back on and beeped softly now and then, whether to its master or to itself she couldn't say. Time to stick a pin in his composure, Mara decided wickedly.

"It was a nice show," she commented.

"Huh?"

"When you fought at the Sarlacc's Pit. It was impressive."

He gave her a self-conscious look. "Thanks."

"In contrast, that thing with the rancor was some terriblebungling. Did you lose your head entirely or what?"

Skywalker looked up and blinked rapidly, plainly taken aback. Mara wondered silently whether he really had fumbled at the rancor or if it had been planned after all.

He looked away, with a slightly self-conscious shrug. "It worked out anyway."

"But you were within a whisker of getting killed. That wasn't exactly your intent, was it? Who'd have saved your friends then?"

Now he looked straight-out annoyed and his voice sharpened a bit up when he retorted. "A thing like that isn't like a dance show, you know. You can't plan it all in advance."

Mara's mouth twitched. Ah, he had some teeth after all! Now it was starting to get fun. "Who says I plan my shows?" she fired back.

He avoided her challenging stare. "Look, I haven't seen your show…"

"But I saw yours." She tilted her head, sweetly.

"It wasn't a show!" he bit off.

She continued to stare at him exactly long enough to feel his irritation boil. Then, satisfied with the reaction she'd provoked, she concentrated on mopping up the last morsels of her food.

True to form, however, his flash of irritation melted away instead of fermenting. He simply seemed to lock her out. Mara put her fork down and took her plate, making a move to get up, but he was faster. "Allow me."

He took the plate from her with sudden gallantry and started back to the galley. At the door he paused and grinned over his shoulder. "That's not a show either, by the way."

She slouched behind crossed arms as the annoyance welled up inside her. _Blasted Jedi!_

_T.B.C._


	7. Chapter 7

Quagmire – Chapter 7

**Smokescreen**

Despite her growing exhaustion, Mara forced herself to hang around in the main hold until the rest of the crew arrived. The man called Lando immediately threw himself at her, bombarding her with dangerously personal questions, but she discovered that he was easy to flirt astray when he got too inquisitive. Solo grinned from the sidelines and sprinkled witticisms, but those sharp smuggler's eyes missed nothing. He sucked up everything she said like a sponge, the same as Organa; when they got around to deciding what to do with their guest, odds were they'd remember practically everything she'd said. Mara frowned. At the moment they didn't even know she knew them to be Rebels; the probability they'd bring her along to their base wasn't exactly staggering. If they thought that was where she wanted to go, it would diminish to nil. But surely she could find some way to improve her odds of success without giving away her hand...

So far, no one had suggested dropping her off, but she needed to move their interest from herself in order to buy more time. The closer they got to the Rebel fleet, the better the chance she could hang on all the way. She needed a diversion, a smokescreen big enough to sidetrack all of them. After some consideration, Mara decided on Solo. The Corellian had spent the past months deep frozen in carbonite and an experience like that must evoke emotions; helplessness, isolation, vulnerability - all feelings that couldn't be the easiest to handle for a space cowboy. It couldn't take much to push him over the edge.

Mara recalled the scene she'd overheard yesterday, when Solo had insisted to Skywalker that he owed him one now. There had been a vulnerability present that triggered her well-tuned intuition. Something in the balance between the two men had apparently changed, and if she was lucky it hadn't stabilized yet. Also, Solo kept calling Skywalker "kid," an expression that sounded somewhat out of place after the Jedi's performance at the Pit of Carkoon; the nickname could only be a hangover from their past friendship, before Solo had been cut out of the loop for several months. What other new developments hadn't the Corellian learned about yet?

Following her hunches, Mara focused again on the Jedi. He was still pottering with his droid and ignored her. Deliberately, no doubt. Her eyes stopped at the glove on Skywalker's hand. Unless she was seriously mistaken, the Jedi had sustained that injury during his tussle with Vader on Bespin. Solo might not know about it yet...

"Why do you wear that glove?" she asked, just loudly enough for everybody to hear. "It must be annoying to work with it on."

The Jedi froze in the middle of a movement, his hand hovering in the air before he lowered it, embarrassed. Solo glanced up, and the Princess did likewise, her look apprehensive. "I was wondering that myself," Solo commented. "Why do you actually wear that thing?"

Skywalker shrugged. "I got a scratch on the barge and it's not exactly a pretty sight," he retorted quietly.

Basically anyone would have understood from his clipped tone that he wasn't keen to discuss the subject. But Han Solo wasn't anyone; he either took the tiniest hints or he took none. "You're hurt? Why haven't you said anything? Dammit, kid, take that glove off and let's get it looked at!"

Looking around for support, he finally registered the awkward atmosphere. "What?" He turned back to Skywalker. "What's going on here?" he demanded.

"Nothing special," Skywalker sighed, "but… Well, some stuff happened awhile back, things you obviously haven't heard of yet." He hesitated for an instant, then pulled his glove off.

There was no doubt that he tried to do it as casually as possible. However, the sudden effect was startling and the burned synthflesh and exposed electronics looked foul in the opened, torn back of the hand.

Solo stared, dumbfounded. "Who did that to you?" he managed.

Skywalker's voice was calm. "I told you, I took a hit at the barge. It's ok. It doesn't hurt."

"Doesn't hurt? Well, I guess everything's just frigging perfect then! Blast it, Luke, I meant your hand, dammit! _Who did that to you__?_"

The recently-so-cosy main hold suddenly seemed very cramped. The Princess closed her eyes, Calrissian stared down at his twitching boots, and the Wookiee let out hushed groan. Only Skywalker remained deadly calm.

"Vader did. As I think you've already guessed."

Before Solo had time for another outburst, he added, "It happened at Bespin, when I tried to save you – turned out I was the one who needed saving." He smiled briefly. "Luckily, it worked better now, on Tatooine."

"Yeah, luckily…" Solo looked like he'd been personally insulted. "Why didn't you tell me before?" He turned accusingly at Organa. "Why didn't _you_ tell me?"

She made a helpless gesture. "I… thought it was too soon."

Han glared. "So just 'cause I was an ice cube for awhile you all think you need to treat me like a rotten rikknit egg now?"

Skywalker's voice sharpened somewhat. "Maybe we all needed to focus on the good things for a change."

Solo frowned for a tense moment. Then his face lost expression. "Yeah? So? What else haven't you told me?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean _what else haven't you told me__?_ That's Basic, isn't it? I've been away for, what is it? Months? For all I know anything could have happened! I'm asking you to tell me if there's something else I should know!"

He glared accusingly at the Princess, who quailed and moaned quietly, her expression tired and pained; months of stress were finally breaking through. Skywalker took one look at her and levelled Solo with an accusing glare that said quite clearly:_ 'Now look what you've done!'_

Solo stared at his girlfriend, and from her to Luke; his expression changing completely while doing so.

And before anyone else Mara understood what he was thinking. She had without knowing released a veritable bomb! How lucky could she get? Obviously the truth of one rumor didn't have to exclude another.

"I see! Right! I _do_ see!" Solo turned on his heels and stormed out of the room.

"Han!" The Princess stood stunned for a moment, then ran after him.

. . .

"He sees what?" Calrissian was one big question mark.

Skywalker frowned. Maybe he was reflecting, maybe he was searching in the feelings Solo had left all but smoking in the room. Then he got it, and Mara saw him close his eyes in pain. "Blast!"

He glanced helplessly at the Wookiee. "Can't you try to speak to him, Chewie? You're probably the only one he'll listen to at the moment."

The Wookiee rumbled something and shook its hairy head. Luke sighed. "You're right, there's no talking to him right now…"

"Han! Open up!" They could hear the Princess hammering on the distant cabin door.

"Someone might want to tell Leia that," Lando murmured.

"Well, at least Han's appreciating his Captain's Quarter's now," Luke tried to joke.

"I'll go to my cabin." Mara slunk towards the hatch, only to be arrested by a huge hairy paw on her shoulder. The Wookiee grumbled something down her face, and he didn't sound friendly.

"Hey, she couldn't know, could she, Chewie? Relax, will you..." Skywalker came up and managed to extract her, but Mara knew with a cold shiver that from now on the Wookiee would keep its eyes on her - and she knew better than to underestimate an alien.

She batted large eyes as much as she dared at her rescuer. "Thanks."

He shrugged. "You're welcome. You couldn't know what a wasp nest you stirred there."

The Wookiee grumbled its low disagreement but Mara gave Skywalker a pale smile. "A Corellian Dauber-wasp nest, I presume."

He grimaced. "Yeah. Or a Yavinese Viper Wasp's."

Mara glanced down the corridor where Solo and the Princess had disappeared. She was still besieging the door, judging from the racket. Mara felt obligated to show a bit of concern. "You think they'll be okay?"

Skywalker's smile lightened a bit. "Well, they've been quarrelling for four years now and so far all it's done is driven them closer together. I doubt a single clash will tear them apart now. Not when they've been away from each other for so long."

He threw out his arms. "Sorry about this. I guess we're all a bit tense here. It's not really a nice place to hang around."

Mara glared at him in disbelief. Again he was standing there – apologizing! Was he really that over-polite? Who would ever have believed that a diehard dissident guerrilla warrior who'd killed a million Imperial personal with one torpedo would practically fall on his own face in order to be hospitable to someone he didn't even know? She felt abruptly uncertain about her next move. It seemed pretty pointless to harass someone who wouldn't get offended anyway because he was so determined to understand your point of view. "Can I do something to help?" she asked reluctantly.

Skywalker shot her a surprised look. Blue eyes pierced into her with an earnestness she wasn't prepared to handle. Then he smiled kindly. "Thanks, but I don't think any of us can do much right now. Maybe except keep up the good spirits and let them work it out for themselves."

He looked thoughtfully at the others, then focused on her again. "Listen, we never answered your question yesterday, did we? Is there some specific place you want to go? And where do you come from, by the way?"

Mara collected herself, making sure her face was well-closed. "Where I come from and where I'm going certainly aren't the same place," she told him curtly.

"Oh…"

"And if I had a place to go, I certainly would have brought that to your attention already." At this she shaded her sharp words with a tinge of sadness.

Lando sauntered up, wearing an informed and congenial smile. "Too few places to go? Or too many?"

"I haven't mixed up with the authorities anywhere, if that's what you mean," Mara replied a bit tartly.

He tilted his head. "Many places, the authorities aren't the worst ones to mix up with…"

"Precisely."

The Wookiee grunted a question and Skywalker translated. "He asked if you've always been a dancer, or if that's something you've picked up?"

She looked away. "I've always danced."

"…but once that was only _one of the many things you did,_wasn't it?" Lando filled in. He flashed a winning smile. "We've got a lot in common, my dear.! I have a long career behind me as well. I've been baron, businessman, smuggler, contractor …."

"And what are you now?" Mara interrupted in a rather chilly voice.

Lando extended his arms buoyantly. "Oh, just a general in the Alliance…"

"Lando!"

But Skywalker's warning came too late. Lando threw his hand to his mouth.

Mara's only surprise, of course, was that the Rebel Alliance had made a general of such a braggart, but she did her best to look stunned by the news, realizing she could use it to her own advantage. This was the perfect opportunity to convince these people that she indeed was a piddling dance girl, used to dealing with only the worst scum of the galaxy – and give them a chance to depict themselves as the opposite. She glanced quickly from one to the other. "Ok, I _did _hear that," she admitted. "But before you do anything drastic, remember that I do owe you my life, ok?"

They stared at her, dumbfounded.

"Anything drastic?" Skywalker echoed in bewilderment.

She stared back, now not having to fake her astonishment in the slightest. "You...aren't going to silence me?"

Skywalker swallowed. "Mara, you are safe here. No one will harm you. Please take my word for it."

She stared at him, green eyes wide. She had anticipted he might turn on her – at the very least she had damn sure expected to be threatened to silence. Instead all she could detect was that blasted earnestness that practically oozed out of his every pore. If Skywalker was faking it, he was the damned best liar she'd ever met, including herself.

"Ok" she finally muttered. "You're a Jedi. I'll take your word for it." Looking from one to another, like asking for permission, she added: "I think I'd better go to my cabin now, if it's ok with you."

"Sure." Luke nodded. "Get some rest."

. . .

The two men and the Wookiee looked at each other when she had left.

"Wow, what a woman!" Lando sighed, clicking his tongue.

"What makes you say that?" Luke murmured.

"What makes me… ? Luke! Are you _blind_?"

He shook his head. "Of course not. But I have never received so many confusing signals as I do from that woman."

"That's just it! She's mysterious, beautiful, forceful, intelligent! She's carrying the pain from her past with grace and dignity, fighting her way through the slum of the galaxy with no help but her own resourcefulness. I tell you, Luke, I admire that in a woman! She might not be gentle or even friendly but that's because life has treatened her badly. She has the fire, you can see it in her eyes, she has passion, style, she…"

"Thanks! I get the general idea." Luke dropped back to the floor next to Artoo. He was going to get these blasted droids clean today if it was the last thing he did.

Lando grinned meaningly. "I think I'll leave you two lovebirds alone for a while. See you later." He started to leave but turned on the threshold, looking a lot more subdued. "Uh, that slip, by the way …"

Luke sighed. Lando's bizarre ability to leap from the heights of flirtation to the depths of contrition in a millisecond never ceased to amaze him. "Never mind. We can't do anything about that now. Maybe it's not at bad as it might seem…"

Lando looked apprehensively at him. "Do you have any Jedi hunch about this?"

"Not exactly, but…" He saw Lando's face fall again and added, "…but, yeah, something like it. I'm sure it will turn out all right."

With a relieved smile and a jaunty salute, Lando vanished and left Luke to wonder how come a sabacc player of Lando's caliber always believed everything Luke said – Luke, who lied about as well as Threepeo piloted. Probably because after Bespin, and after joining the Rebellion, Lando had needed a friend more than he'd ever admit – and Luke was one of the few that had never judged him.

He paused for a while, listening. Neither Leia nor Han could be heard anymore.

Chewie, who silently had remained with him, listened too. He growled a question.

Luke shook his head. "No, they're in separate places now. I could imagine it might take a while…I don't know…" He sighed and rubbed his hands over his face.

Chewbacca tilted his head and sniffed a little. Then he walked to his young friend and ruffled his hair in an affectionate gesture.

Luke glanced up, and smiled a bit sheepishly. "Thanks, Chewie."

He listened to the Wook's question and turned serious again. "I know. He's like a brother to me too. So I don't mind… Of course he is protective of me… But then, that's not the real problem here, is it? Chewie, do you think Han seriously _believes_ that… that I would have taken advantage of his absence?"

The Wookiee gave the matter a thought. Then he woofed an answer that was so complicated that Luke had to concentrate hard in order to understand it. His grasp of Shyriiiwook left much to be desired.

"Ok. He's afraid that could be the case because he's upset and thinks that I've been hurtbecause of him. But when he's not upset anymore he won't think that anymore, but he will still be afraid of it? Did I get that right?"

An affirmative bark.

"Great. Now how the hells are we going to fix that?"

A long, deep gurgle.

Luke rolled his eyes. "Are _you_ jumping on the Shira bandwagon too? Sure, I like her. But she's not the solution to this problem at all."

He rubbed his chin and let his mind slide to another problem close at hand. "Speaking about redheads, what do you think of Mara?"

A counter question.

Luke blushed. "No! I mean her story! Are you buying it? _Please_, Chewie!" He dug at the sand in Artoo's leg joint in forceful exasperation.

The Wookiee gave him his version.

Luke listened thoughtfully. "Yeah, I've got the same feeling. There's something mysterious about her. And for sure there's more - and different - than what meets the eye. On the other hand, she's at least not trying to ingratiate herself… That's a good sign, right?"

_Bark._

"Well, maybe it's just me…"

. . . . .

The next day peace resumed, or at least something near to it. When Han came out of his cabin it was obvious that he and Leia had reconciled at some point, and the rest of the crew treated the incident like had it been purely a matter between those two. Luke knew of course it wasn't, and also had a distinct impression that Han and Leia had only skirted the edges of the problem, neither wanting to dig deeper at the moment. Not that he had any business preaching to others on the importance of tackling their personal issues...

Mara Jade didn't make an appearance until lunch time, at which point everybody was assembled in the lounge area. Han and Lando were playing sabacc while Chewie and Leia watched. Luke had finished cleaning both droids but had gone back to fiddle with Artoo. There were remarkably fewer parts and tools spread out now, though, and Threepio was turned back on.

The golden protocol droid was naturally the first to notice Mara's arrival and hurried to greet her. "Good morning, Miss Arica!" he beamed. "What a pleasure to see you on your feet again. I trust you have slept well?"

"Could be worse," she grunted, nodding at everybody. "And it's not Arica, it's Mara."

"Really?" Threepio sounded abashed for a moment, then his algorithms found a plausible explanation. "Oh, I see! Arica was your artist name! I must say I was most impressed with your dancing, Miss Mara. You are very skilled indeed!"

Mara glared at the shining metal limbs of the droid. "And what would _you_ know about dancing?"

Threepio, despite having no facial mobility, glowed. "I'm so glad you ask that, Miss Mara! You see, in many cultures dancing is a language of its own. And as you probably don't know, I am fluent in over six million forms of communication and…"

Luke fought desperately to bite back his laughter. Mara Jade was a handful, that much was certain, but against Threepio's persistence even her abrasive edge dulled helplessly. She could scowl until her face froze - he'd never get the message. Over at the game table Han stifled a snicker; Luke didn't dare glance at him, because if he did they'd probably both collapse laughing.

Jade noticed the wide-spread amusement anyway and that made her glower even more stonily. As Threepio only kept prattling obliviously, she pinned it on Luke instead. "This is your droid?"

Luke nodded, bracing himself for the outburst he knew for sure would come.

"Did you program him too?" She waved towards his scattered tools and Artoo, her expression mocking. "That 'body language' part sounds really exciting. Where did you pick that up? Jedi school?"

Luke interrupted her line of questions. "I didn't program him."

For an instant he was tempted to retort. But Jade's comments were so far fetched that he would answer them better by just letting them be. She'd only said it in order to provoke him, anyway; that seemed to be her default response to everybody.

Her eyebrows rose at his curt answer, obviously expected him to attack in return. When he didn't rise to the taunt but returned her taunting glare completely unruffled she spun on the decicred again, changing her approach to a tight, demanding, "When do we arrive?"

That got everybody's attention and the mood in the main hold shifted instantly. "Er… arrive where?" Leia asked warily.

"I thought you'd know that better than me," Mara retorted. "And I asked when, not where."

"We do have a course, naturally," Luke broke in. "But we can't exactly tell you where we're going, except that it's trailing towards Galactic West.." He glanced at Han and the rest for approval. "Listen, Mara, we can stop anywhere you want to. Or if you prefer to…"

She held up her hand. "Don't I get a say in this?"

Luke snapped his mouth shut, freshly irritated by the flurry of contradicting feelings she was able to stir in him in no time. He forced himself back to calm. "Of course."

All gibe was gone from her face now and replaced by sober matter-of-factness. "I honestly don't give a damn about our destination. It could be the Rebel Alliance, it could be Corellia, Coruscant or it could be Sernpidal for all I care. As long as there's some kind of decent authority that makes up the rules and keeps them, not warlords or Hutts. As long as it's a place where I can do some proper work and prove myself in an honest way. And as long as I won't be dancing. The dancing is… well, I love it, but in the end it makes more trouble than money."

She paused a bit to let the meaning of her words sink in before continuing. "You guys have been…different. You've been straight and fair, not taking advantages or anything." Mara threw a deliberate, meaningful glance at Luke before adding, "And I've been thinking a lot on this trip. I've been to so many shady places that I'd started to wonder if there are any decent places left. Maybe the place you're going to could be a good place for me to make a fresh start."

Han and Leia exchanged glances. "You talk about work…What kind of work would that be?" Solo inquired.

"Any kind. I've tried a bit of this and that, I'm not afraid of working hard and I'm good with my hands." She held out her hands. They were small and still showed signs of the manicure she'd worn at Jabba's but at closer look they were also strong and full of thin scars and callouses.

"What are you good at?" Han asked suspiciously.

Mara shrugged. "I'm a decent mechanic, believe it or not. I've also worked in supplies, organizing several X-class transports along the Hydian way. I dropped it 'cause it was hard earned money and a dancer makes more, but I'm done with dancing now."

"And you don't have a problem with joining the Alliance?"

It was still Han asking the questions and while Luke's mind was working in overdrive trying to sort out what game Jade was pulling now, he couldn't help smiling and wondering whether Han noticed that not long ago he'd been standing right where Jade was.

"I don't see myself joining anything," Mara retorted. "I see myself _working_ for the Alliance. And I'm always loyal to my employees. I'm not some political zealot, let me tell you now, but I'm not exactly in love with the Empire either."

Something about her statement prickled Luke's spine. He reached out with the Force but all he could detect was smooth determination. He frowned in concentration. There was a strange familiarity about this feeling to him; like sensing things in darkness but losing eye contact when looking at it straight. He reached out consciously again but now Jade was her "old self' again; cool and ardent at the same time.

. . .

Mara followed closely the reactions to her words and decided that she'd gained everything that could be reasonably hoped for. It appeared the Rebels were buying her rough, non-comittal tone and it seemed like even the Jedi hadn't discovered the careful manipulation behind her words. Now she could only hope that they would reach the conclusion she'd suggested and ignore her own sense of guilt.

She had never cared much about lying, but she hadn't made a habit of it either. And it was more or less true that her love and allegiance wasn't to the Empire but to the Emperor personally - to him, and to the citizens of the galaxy they both served.

To her relief, it looked like her dedication was at least paying off. The atmosphere in the main hold seemed to have relaxed somewhat, despite her presence. What she couldn't understand was their sudden, barely hidden amusement; the Princess smiled slyly and Skywalker was holding his hand before his mouth, eyes twinkling.

And for some reason she couldn't fathom, they looked more at Han Solo than at her.

. . . . .

Several hours later, Luke was about to make the space walk to his X-wing that had been in tow since Tatooine, when Leia caught him at the exit hatch.

"I need a word before you go," she murmured and Luke winced, knowing exactly about what.

"It's about Mara, isn't it?"

Leia nodded shortly. "Do you think we're making a mistake, taking her with us to the base? Can she be trusted?"

Luke had dreaded exactly this; that Leia would let it all come down to him in the end. While he was glad that she trusted his Jedi powers, he often feared that she trusted them too much; trusted _him_ too much. The thing was that Luke had always been much more comfortable with Leia trusting her own brilliant instinct and he had no wish to trade places.

The other thing was that he couldn't find any coherence in his sensations about Jade; she worried him, irritated him and fascinated him at the same time. She spoke her mind, yet concealed her meaning, appearing simultaneously wary and fierce; honorable and firm of character, yet hard to trust.

He took a deep breath. His meditation hadn't exactly given him an answer either, it never did, but at least he had a feeling to go with. "I think she doesn't like us, and I think she has her own agenda, but I sense no imminent danger from her," he told Leia.

The Princess frowned. "No _imminent_ danger? Luke, I've seen that girl dance, and she's a professional, but there's much more to her than that! I'm not sure it adds up with the other things she claims she can do..."

"You mean someone can't be a dancer and a mechanic at the same time?" Luke lifted his eyebrows doubtfully. "Well, it might sound a bit far fetched but I don't sense her exactly lying either. And once we get to _Home One _the intelligence people can verify her story."

He shrugged. "The thing is, Leia, that the Force doesn't exactly give clear Yes and No answers. But I sense that she believes she has less in common with us than she actually has. And I don't feel her to be a threat, either to us nor the Alliance…" He was a bit surprised at the way his words came out, yet knew them in the moment he said them, to be absolutely true. Luke hesitated. He _had_ felt a threat from her, suppressed, vague, but it wasn't towards the Alliance, nor was it towards those he cared for, he knew that absolutely now. Then who was it towards? Himself?

Leia eyed him inquiringly. "I watched her closely in Jabba's Palace and she knows how to handle people all right. I have no doubt she's smart and highly resourceful but I can easily imagine her becoming as much trouble as help. We still have time to stop and drop her off…"

Luke shook his head. "No. I think we should take her with us." Again he had that reassuring feeling in the back of his head, like a breath of the Force; this was right, the thing to do. The moment of clarity didn't last for long, though; as he settled into his X-wing, Luke found himself gnawing over the problem yet again. He wasn't afraid for himself; he'd lived with danger for so long it had ceased to be even interesting, and however tough she might be, Mara Jade didn't scare him.

Or was he thinking straight here? Was this just another attractive woman to confuse his head?

She had green eyes. Luke hardly ever noticed an eye color, but Mara Jade's emerald gaze was hard to ignore. Didn't Shira have green eyes too? Luke started the engines. Well, soon he'd find out.

T.B.C.


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's note: A big warm **thank you **to all of you who are following this story and particularly for the positive reviews! They keep me going - so please keep them coming! _

* * *

**Quagmire – Chapter 8**

**Hail to the Heroes**

The welcome the _Millenium Falcon_ received when she docked _Home One_ could in itself have been a chapter in the history of the Rebel Alliance. Despite nothing official having been initiated, it seemed like everybody had gotten the news and the main hangar was packed with just about everybody on the ship, eager to welcome Han back and to congratulate his rescue team.

"Hey!" Han shouted, trying to hug five girls at once. "I never knew I was this popular!"

Everybody grinned at that, even Leia. Nonetheless she took a sharp scan of the ladies in question; you never knew…

The Rogues, not surprisingly, had managed to press themselves into the frontline of the welcoming party with open arms and gleeful cheers. Shira slipped straight into Luke's arms as he appeared from his X-wing, and hugged him tight for a few thrilling seconds. "Well done," she whispered into his ear. "Good to see you again, Ace."

"You too," Luke faltered, then she was gone already; hugging Lando, then Han, then Leia – in the moment all animosity seemed gone – then finally Chewbacca, the latter causing Luke to grin as he remembered their banter about wet banthas and Wookiees. At least Chewie was dry now, but he never smelled of roses.

_She' so natural_, he mused, touched and excited by the warm welcome. _So likable_…

. . .

Mara descended the landing ramp late enough to avoid attention but in time to observe the first bombardment of welcomers. Her eyes narrowed as she studied the redhead who was embracing first Skywalker, then his friends while sprinkling spry remarks. _Quite the charmer, that one._

Standing slightly aside as she did, she also noted Skywalker's astromech droid that dutifully had rolled after him and now stood deserted behind as its Master was pulled away, first by the spunky russette, then by a massive wave of other admirers. The droid let out a desolate beep and rocked a little as if to comfort itself, then it turned on its socket and rolled away, continuously turning its dome back towards Skywalker as if to ensure he really didn't need it anymore. Mara's mouth twisted. Though only a droid, that R2-D2 unit was a pretty expressive little fellow.

. . .

To house an impromptu bash the size of the _Falcon_'s welcoming party, the largest of the Mess halls had been commandeered. When Luke entered a sanisteem and cloth change later, he found the party already in full swing. He had to elbow himself through the hall and for a moment he almost wondered if he'd have to use the Force simply in order to find Han and Leia.

"Over here, kid!" Solo's voice carried over the noise, closely followed by Chewie's ear-splitting roaring.

Han was standing with his arm around Leia, surrounded by Chewie and most of Rogue Squadron and wearing a grin big enough it could have fit on Jabba's rancor. Luke felt a similar smile nestle into his own face; he just couldn't help it. These were his friends, his family. His new family after the one he'd lost. There was no place in the galaxy he would rather be!

"Hey, Luke!" Han beamed when Luke finally managed to jostle his way to them. "Fresh from the sanisteam and ready to party?"

"You got at least one out of two right," Luke muttered, honestly more in the mood for a cozy chat with a beer than prepared to whoop it up with the rest of crew off duty. "I think I'll be more ready after a drink, though."

Shira smiled amiably. "I'll get you one. Beer?" She looked vibrant as usual. Luke honestly had no idea how she did it; she was wearing the same dull fatigues as everyone else but still she somehow managed to dazzle. Instantly self-consious, he could feel his cheeks warm, discomfited by her appearance and attention alike.

"Hey, you don't have to… I can…" he started but she was already on her way, mingling through the crowd with a neatness that glued Luke to watching her retreat for long moments.

Wes Jansen's head dumped onto his shoulder from behind, causing him to stir. "Just look at the afterburners on _that _baby," Wes murmured, eyes dreamy. "Aah… if only it was me she was hurrying back to…"

"You mean the beer or the babe?" Hobbie quipped.

"Both," Wes admitted bluntly. "But it's boss here who's in her good books. If I only knew what she sees in him."

"It's the orange," Wedge deadpanned, referring to their flight suits. "Girls can't resist a man in orange."

"Hey, I wear orange too." Wes protested. "And still she picks this guy out. I dunno if he smells particularly good or…?"

"I find that hard to imagine," Han put in, flashing his cheeky lopsided grin. "Last time I saw the kid he still stunk like a dead tauntaun."

"Thanks to who?" Luke shot back. "I certainly didn't pick that smell."

Leia rolled her eyes, smiling. "You'll be hearing about that tauntaun for the rest of your life, Luke. You'd better get used to it." She gave Han a quick kiss on the cheek. "Gotta go for a short while. Ackbar and Thaneespi needed to talk with me about something urgent. I'll be back as quickly as I can." She dived into the crowd where her diminutive form disappeared in no time.

"And there comes your drink already, Luke," Wes commented. "She must have charmed herself past the queue or she couldn't have been that swift… Hey? What's she doing now?"

Shira, who was returning with two well filled tankards, had stopped, her eyes on a romancing couple that seemed very committed to each other. Luke recognized Kasan Moor, a female pilot from the Rogues and Kesin Ommis from Gold Squadron. Shira seemed to hesitate a moment, then walked up to the couple and started talking.

"Probably trying to keep Kasan out of trouble," Karie, Rogue twelve, broke in from Luke's left side. "The poor girl has been searching for solace wherever she can find it, ever since Zev was shot down at Hoth. And after a few drinks Ommis is always ready to offer comfort and more too. But she'll regret it tomorrow."

"How do you know?" Wedge peered at the couple, sounding doubtful.

"Because she's been there before. She talks to me and Shira about it." Karie sighed and shook her head. "Damn, I wish Zev was still here! But Shira has been so sweet to Kasan all this time. She's really such a thoughtful person!"

"And who's going to help poor Ommis to get his fun tonight?" Wes protested. "Why do you gals always stick together nowadays?"

Karie wrinkled her nose. She was a pretty girl with dark hair and open features but right now her face showed only barely hidden disdain, as she was eyeing Wes Jansen. "Maybe because we've realized there's so few of us that we need to stick together."

"C'mon Karie! You've been four girls in a squadron of twelve; you're not that few! Besides, if you think you're outnumbered, how do you think we guys feel about you! Be happy you can pick and choose!"

"Really, Jansen! Everything isn't about sex!"

"Of course not," Wes agreed amenably. "There's also flying ships and shooting Imps! Oooh, I love the Rebellion!"

Karie rolled her eyes and exchanged looks with Luke. The latter didn't escape Wes despite the fact that he'd tipped back his beer once more. "Help me out here, Boss. Do you think it's ok that the girls stick together against us boys?"

"Hey," Luke protested. "Being your pal doesn't mean I'm less a pal to Karie. I'm sure not with anyone if that means being against someone else in this squad."

"What are you guys talking about?" Shira wondered, already re-entering the company. She gave Luke a bright smile and handed him his beer. "Sorry it took some time, Ace. But I think it's pretty cold still."

"That's almost a crime, keeping a man waiting for his beer, "Han remarked lightly. "What kept you, anyway?"

"I just noted a subordinate who was heading straight into trouble." Shira shrugged. "That's her business of course, but I've heard her wail about it so many times now that I think I owed her a small reminder that there's a world existing under that pink cloud she's drifting on right now. Whatever she wants to do with that information, that's up to her."

"Respect to that," Wedge allowed and the others murmured their support, Wes somewhat reluctantly, though. Luke made a mental note that he at some point soon needed to find out who was left in his squadron, if Kasan was in Shira's squad now. No need to bring it up now, though, he probably had a dispatch on his room-computer.

Shira tilted her chin, a playful smile tugging her lips. "Oh, I don't know. Some people need help to say 'no', others to say 'yes'. I happily assist with both." She gave Luke a meaningful look and he blushed under her gaze.

"There you go! Look at that face! But if I say something you accuse me of thinking about nothing but sex!" Wes accused. Shira grinned and Karie started protesting again.

The banter went on but Luke lost the trail, his mind being inevitably drawn to his own implications of the matter. He hadn't been with a woman since those first, dizzy, confusing months in the Alliance when he in his inexperience had stumbled into a number of adventure- and love-longing girls. As the Alliance's new Golden Boy he'd had more opportunities than was good for him. He had quickly learnt that short affairs wasn't his cup of tea, feeling either cheated or like a cheater himself, and had always shrunk from the feeling of exposure afterwards. Consequently, he had learned to restrain himself, as it seemed the only sensible thing to do. Besides, at that time he had only had eyes for Leia anyway.

He drew a deep breath. Things were different now. Leia was taken, and Shira wasn't just any girl, far from it. He felt pretty sure that if they started something together, it could develop into something lasting… forever maybe? And even if it wouldn't, did he really have to think that far? He liked Shira, respected her, and he was sure she wanted him. Oh, she was always very clear about that. He felt a warm rise to his cheeks at the thought. Not only his cheeks, actually, oh Force…

So why was he simply sitting here? Why hadn't he made a move yet? Again he felt that churning in his stomach. Now he wasn't only delaying his return to Dagobah, he was also blowing off the hottest girl in the Alliance despite the fact that she was practically begging him pay attention to her.

Luke took another sip of his beer. He could feel Shira's eyes on him. They seemed to burn into him and made him suddenly very self-conscious. The air was too thick and heavy to breathe…

He excused himself that it was the beer running quickly through, and hurried out, making his way to the nearest fresher.

Hobbie nudged Wedge discreetly towards the outskirts of the group and both men watched Luke's back disappear. "D'you think he's gonna hit on her tonight?" he inquired quietly.

Wedge pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Nope. I think _she_'ll hit on _him_ tonight, but I'm not sure anything will come out of it."

"What's wrong with this guy?" Hobbie muttered. "I know he's been holding back cause of duty all this time, and credit to that, but now the path's all clear. I'd give my right arm to have her as a girlfriend."

"If you had her as your girlfriend you wouldn't need your right arm," Wedge retorted lightly.

"Honestly." Hobbie looked worried. "Luke's the greatest guy I know, but he needs to… _normalize_, you know? She'd do him a galaxy of good. Shouldn't we try to help him somehow?"

Wedge shrugged. "I tried to talk with him before but I don't think it did much. Hey, Big Boss is a grown up man. If he doesn't ask for help it means that he can solve his own problems."

"Yeah?" Hobbie sounded doubtful. "He hit that hole in the Death Star four years ago and he hasn't hit a hole since. To me that sure sounds like he'd need some help."

Wedge grinned. "Ah, so he does. But I know of things you don't…"

"What? You do? Tell me – everything!"

"Forget it Klivian. My mouth is sealed…With…"

"Two beers and a Corellian brandy?"

"Make that four brandies, pal, and we'll get to it…"

. . .

Luke stayed at the fresher as long as he felt he could allow himself, then slowly begun to make his way back. When he passed the bar he suddenly found himself facing another set of unblinking eyes under a thick mane of red hair.

Luke stopped dead in surprise. "Why aren't you in the medbay, Jade?"

Mara Jade shrugged; again one of those studiedly casual gestures that both irritated and fascinated him at the same time. "They told me I could come for a couple of hours. But that's where I'll be sleeping."

"I wasn't asking where you're sleeping!" Luke snapped defensively. "I just think you should get well before you start running around the ship!"

She raised her eyebrows in surprise and Luke flushed when he realized that for once she hadn't been teasing him. Instead it had been him who…

"Well, great," she drawled, interrupting his already galloping self-reproach. "Cause not to complain about that medbay of yours, Mr. Rebel, but it's hardly a cozy place for a date."

"Glad we agree on that." He tried to sound firm but knew he was doing a poor job. Instead of arguing with her he wanted to ask her how she was doing. He should probably introduce her to his friends too; she was a newcomer, after all. The thing was just that she was making everything so hard for him, getting at him all the time, in that affected manner that showed how little she actually cared – and he was tired of pushing her off… _Bad excuses, Skywalker…_

He took a deep breath. "C'mon. I'll introduce you to some people here…"

Mara shook her head, suddenly looking tired. "Thank you, but no. I'm fine."

When he looked at her in surprise she explained quietly, "It's kind of you, really it is, but I'm too tired for that. I already have a problem to shoo away all those who try to make contact. I really just came here because I wanted to sense the people and the atmosphere a bit, so they allowed me to come only here, and here only before the interrogations tomorrow. I'm even wearing a tracker."

Luke felt himself soften suddenly. Of course! As a newcomer she had to be interrogated before being allowed to move freely around the ship. He'd forgotten.

"I see…" he mumbled, ashamed that he hadn't thought of it earlier. "And I do understand you. Being in a new place and all, I'd probably want to look around myself if I was in your boots."

She looked very beautiful with her hair falling loose around her shoulders and her large, burning eyes in that exquisite face. Though she was dressed in a loose, non revealing tunic, the very way she carried her head screamed it was a striking girl standing here.

But she was also injured, new and alone in unknown territory. Those ought to be his concerns.

He touched her hand. "You decide that yourself, of course. Just remember that if you need a hand or help or anything, you're welcome to come to me anytime, ok?"

"Thank you. That's very considerate of you," she answered stiffly. Then he sensed that spark again and s/he added, "And I'm delighted that you can imagine yourself in my boots. It is_ just_ my boots, right?"

He was almost back with the others before he recognized the double entendre. He blushed but this time couldn't help chuckling as well. It was almost becoming a habit between them, her dirty insinuations and his compulsive denials. Perhaps Jade wasn't that bad after all? She was a bit like Han, really. Once Luke had thought that the mouthy Corellian meant all the cynicism he uttered, but had been proven wrong. And now he had this gut feeling about Mara, that she wasn't as bad as she wanted to appear. There was a strong sense of… well, perhaps not honesty, but at least integrity about her. At the same time, he knew absolutely that she would be trouble too. Luke sighed. All these insinuations the Force gave him could really be quite confusing.

As he returned to the Rogues, Luke quickly realized that in his absence the party had entered the next level. Despite her earlier assertions of reserve, Karie was in a suspiciously physical discussion with Kin Kian, leader of newly founded Grey Squadron and Wedge stood in a corner, kissing Lela Marsin - among the Rogue boys normally referred to as the "the talented blonde" – the nickname prompted more by her chest measurement than her skills as a mechanic. Lando was talking to a brown-haired girl whom Luke didn't recognize, while Wes for once wasn't flirting but had caught himself an animated discussion with Han. Wes' arms flailed like flikflaks, not an uncommon phenomenon when he was tipsy and excitable, and Shira, Hobbie and a returned Leia stood by, gasping with laughter.

Luke moved into the ring, coming up between Shira and Leia. Both almost jumped as he silently appeared from behind.

"What's up?" he inquired softly.

"Oh," Leia smiled. "Wes was just telling about his experience with Velanarian wrestling, apparently an advanced form where you use four arms. And Han told him that was nothing and he should try to visit Kashyyk where they actually have an Academy in the discipline… I have no idea how they'll settle that one… Fortunately Chewie's away to get something more to eat, his perspective here might have been pretty overpowering…"

"Ah," Luke chuckled. _Typical_

He threw Shira a cautious glance and was met by a dazzling smile that instantly went all the way down to the pit of his stomach, maybe even a bit deeper – Luke did his best not to finish the thought. Unfortunately, the more he tried not to, the more he seemed to be dragged in… And she had green eyes, he saw that now despite the dim light! Not brown, not grey, they were indisputably green. Why hadn't he observed that before?

"How is your new squadron coming along?" he inquired, grateful that they at least had one topic in common that was innocuous.

"Really well," Shira told him. "We were out on our first trial flight two days ago, and they're all very able and topmotivated. Most know each other from before of course." She shrugged, a smile playing on her lips. "Can you guess our name?"

Luke shook his head, a neat number of possibilities running easily through his mind but none of them seeming more likely than the other. "No idea."

"None at all?" Shira baited, running her fingers through her hair. When Luke continued frowning she twisted a thick curl around her finger, pulling it almost before her face.

A sudden possibility struck Luke, but that couldn't be, it had been years…"No!"

"Yes! Shira grinned. "Red Squadron!" She flipped the curl triumphantly into the air. "Wedge didn't know what to say at first. I think he viewed you or himself as the only possible commanders of a revived Red Squadron. But he accepted it in the end, when I could tell him that Madine personally had guaranteed that there was a particular reason why they chose that very name."

"I can imagine," Luke admitted, not quite sure what to think himself. Red Flight had been one of the squadrons flying out against the Death Star – and he and Wedge had been the only ones to return. Yet, he was sure High Command had a very special reason for picking that name, and it wasn't the hair color of the Commanding Officer. "I guess they wouldn't use that if it wasn't for good luck on some special occasion. But it sounds like that occasion's still a big secret?" He threw a glance Han and Wes, whose argument had deteriorated to a belly-jabbing duel.

"It is," Shira nodded. "Even I wasn't told what it is. We've been running these insane sims, though, and they seem to get more wicked by the day."

Luke nodded, pursing his lips. "So, who've you taken with you? Kasan, I heard, but who else?"

"Whister and Cinda. And I got Barlon Hightower from the Gold's. And Grizz from…"

A scream interrupted her. Han had slipped on the floor at the same time as Wes made a forceful push and now they both toppled over. Unfortunately Leia stood too close and she too lost her footing as Han tumbled into her. In a tangle of arms and legs, Wes on top, all three turn hurtled over a chair and on to the floor.

"It's ok, it's ok!" Han waved at them, laughing. "We only… hey, Leia!"

The only answer was a muffled grunt, and Luke hurried to pull both Solo and Jansen off her. "Leia! You're ok?"

The Princess rubbed her temple where the chair had scraped. "I'm fine," she murmured, then glanced down at her hand; there was blood on it.

"It's only an abrasion," Shira reassured, closing in from the other side. "A bit of pressure and a moist cloth and no one will see it. Hey, Princess, need any help?"

Leia shook her head: "No, really, I can manage," She moved her fingers over the damage and caught her one braid hanging loosely, her coiffure completely deranged. Her face fell.

Shira put a comforting arm around her. "C'mon. I'll help you and then we'll be back at this party in no time. Excuse us boys, back in a minute."

. . .

As Leia dabbed the last blood from her temple she looked again in the mirror. "Typical," she murmured sardonically, "This is just the way I wanted to look tonight – of all nights…"

"Hey," Shira soothed. "It's not bad at all. No one will notice, I'm sure. Come, I'll help you with your hair."

With deft fingers she loosened the sad wreckage of the braid, pulling pins from Leia's chestnut hair and opening the plait. "You really should wear your hair loose sometimes," she observed. "It has such a beautiful color. And it's awesome how long it is."

Leia couldn't help smiling. "It was customary to have long hair on Alderaan. And I absolutely hated it when I was a small girl! I even cut it off once, believe it or not. But in the end I guess I adapted, even learned to like it. Today, I couldn't imagine cutting it short."

Shira smiled. "I can understand that. Cutting it would probably be a bad idea too since it surely would take you ages to grow it back again; after all your hair isn't that thick." She tilted her head. "Shall I plait it again or would you wear it loose?

Leia straightened a bit, pulling herself together, annoyed about her own touchiness. "Well… maybe…"

Shira pulled Leia's long tresses in front of her shoulders and leaned in to the mirror to study the effect. "Maybe it would be better if you curled it before wearing it loose? You face gets a little bit long with it loose, just a little bit of course." She stepped back. "But from the back it's really beautiful. And it softens your face and makes you look less tired."

Leia arched an eyebrow and Shira let out a little laugh. "Hey, don't take this personally; I just happen to know; we _all_ do, really, how hard a time you've had without Han. It's only natural that a pressure like that will show on your face. You've lost weight too. I just wish it was me," she joked. "I could bear to lose a few kilos. Well, I'm sure you'll get them back quickly now Han's back."

"Probably," Leia answered, face and voice back in control now. "And I'll take the braid, please."

As Shira skillfully plaited her hair and again fastened it up on her head, she added. "Thank you Shira. This was very helpful of you."

"Oh, you're welcome, Princess. Any time."

. . .

"Time for a dance, Ace." Shira claimed his hand and Luke found himself mildly but firmly dragged to the dance floor. He tried to get a glimpse of Leia's face as he passed, but she turned her eyes away, expression blank.

The music changed to slow right on time. Luke opened his mouth but before he could find something to say, Shira slid close and wrapped her arms around him. He folded his arms around her and they glided to the music. After the beers he'd had, the butterflies that her closeness caused in his stomach felt more exciting than unpleasant.

It was so perfect somehow, the music, the dampened lights, the timing, her soft body in his arms. All he needed was to let go. What was tomorrow when tonight could be what he dreamt of, all he needed for a while? And who said things couldn't work out even if he let go this once? Slowly, Luke forgot his worries, his liabilities, his yearnings and focused completely on the moment, pulling Shira near and breathing in the scent of her hair and skin. All the world seemed to be fading away. Shira's fingers meandered over his neck and when he tilted his head, Luke found his face only centimeters from hers. A slight dip of his head and their lips would meet… Her warm breath misted against his, demanding him to forget everything against her soft, female body…

Letting his head sink against hers, Luke let their temples press together, making the kiss seem a bit less inevitable. He managed to keep them that way until the music silenced.

Then he straightened and met her eyes. "Thanks for the dance. It's...um...getting late…"

She looked searchingly at him. "So it is."

Gods, her lips looked inviting!

"So I'm turning in now. I guess I'm still pretty tired." Before she had the time to protest he rattled off, "Good night, Shira. Keep the party going, will you?"

She didn't hide her disappointment, but to his great relief she didn't pout either. "Well, somebody has to."

"And you're the best at that. I know!" He kissed her quickly on the cheek, reassuringly he hoped, and walked away with her scent still pulsing through his body.

He hurried out towards the corridor and the turbolift, cursing himself silently as he walked. Just as he ducked out of the mess hall he felt it again; that something, so uncannily, creepily familiar by now; like a cold breath on his neck. He spun around and stared back at the crowd behind him, but all he could see were people dancing and talking. No matter how he peered nothing suspicious presented itself.

"Hey Luke!" a voice chirped from his side. He turned and recognized redhaired Pash Cracken, a fellow pilot from the A-Wings. "What's the matter? Seen a ghost?"

"Uh? Oh, no. Just tired, I guess." Luke shook his head and left.

. . .

Leia lifted her head from Han's shoulder and craned her neck just in time to see Luke disappear. She had made a conscious effort not to look at the couple on the dancing floor, and now couldn't help the surge of relief as she watched Luke's hurried departure. Had he kissed Shira? Probably not – he wouldn't be in such a hurry to leave if he had. And why was she so bothered about it anyway? Leia pursed her lips in frustration. She had Han – she should be happy if Luke could find someone to care about too. Shira was one of the very best fighter pilots in the entire Alliance, she was well-liked by everybody, she was resourceful, pretty, had been rewarded for her courage in battle… and Leia didn't like the woman one bit. Thin hair – now, really!

She tried to tell herself she was being petty, sensitive. But it was a fact that Shira somehow always managed to hurt her, and say it in exactly such a way that Leia found it hard to answer back, and was left afterwards with a feeling she might have misjudged her words; that they hadn't been intended the way she'd taken them. And the worst thing was, that this happened again and again, and Leia seemed to be the only one having it that way with the woman; everybody else were falling over each other to praise her to the skies. For a time Leia had suspected that she didn't like Shira simply because she'd been jealous over Luke; after all she had always considered Luke as… well, hers, in a way. In a different way than Han, of course, but still. Close. A friend. A treasured friend. And she'd felt Shira was creating a rift between them and therefore disliked the woman.

Leia frowned. Could it be the reason why Luke held back? Did he feel that too? Maybe it wasn't just Leia's own imagination? But why should Luke stop himself; he knew Leia was with Han, what could he gain by refusing himself the joy of caring about someone…?

"Hey, sweetheart! A kiss first and a dance afterwards? Could tempt me, you know!"

Leia turned to look at the man who had stolen her heart so completely over the past four years. At some point, when things had settled, she would talk with Han about all this. He would be able to see clearly. Yes, that was the best thing to do. Han had a fine intuition as soon as he settled down enough to listen. As soon as things had settled. That would be soon, right? She mustered a new grin. "Funny how you make dull things seem alluring, flyboy."

"Hey, I'll give you a whole new lesson on what's dull and what's not."

He did. Though Leia never did catch the dull part.

. . .

Mara had forced herself to linger at the bar for an hour and a half now and felt her strength was rapidly leaving her. Amazing – a party about Skywalker, for Skywalker, thrown by friends of Skywalker, and full of booze, and she'd yet to hear even one useful scrap of gossip –

"I just talked to Lando!" squealed a female Duro as she wriggled up beside the human woman on Mara's right. She quickly took a deep sip of her drink and turned further away, so as not to appear interested in the conversation. "He says it was Skywalker who rescued the entire mission. They were captured, all of them except Lando, and he wound up in a jam and Solo and Chewbacca had to rescue him. And the whole time Luke's fighting all the gangsters alone!"

"What about the Princess? She's got a pretty wicked trigger finger," the human woman answered.

"Sounds like Skywalker had to rescue her too."

Chuckles.

"Hey, we've seen it before, haven't we? Luke Skywalker saves the day. And you know, every time I meet the guy I find it so hard to believe. He's so polite, like he's fresh off the farm, I swear. I don't know how he does it," the Duro sighed.

"He is nice! I've worked with him several times. He's got no idea he's a hero," a neayby Mon Cal assured.

A Human male who'd been hanging over the bar turned at that, not able to stay out of the discussion. "Or he's just good at hiding things."

"What do you mean?" the other inquired, her head tilting slightly in the Mon Cal version of a frown.

"I mean, he's a Jedi after all, isn't he?"

"And what's that supposed to mean?" The Duro didn't sound supportive at all, like she could predict where the man was going and didn't agree.

"Well, the Jedi are sorcerers, aren't they? There are rumors they tried to overthrow the Senate and that's the reason why the Old Republic crumbled."

"That's Imperial propaganda crap," snapped the Duro. "Maybe you noticed who _actually _got rid of the Senate a couple years ago? It's the other way round: the Jedi were the only ones who had the guts to fight Palpatine!"

"Maybe, maybe not," the man maintained grumpily.

"Hey, Luke's a good guy," cut in the human woman. "Besides, he's not a Jedi is he? Just a little bit… what's it called? Force-sensitive?"

"You're dead right he's a good guy, and no Jedi stuff, true or false, is going to change that for me! He saved us from the Death Star, and you can't forget that!" The Mon Calamari, having played her trump card, waited for the inevitable nods of assent from her companions and then wandered off.

The conversation moved on. The ache in her leg had ceased to be mollified by cheap alcohol. Mara decided she had heard enough for tonight.

. . .

Luke was on his way to the turbolift when a slender form caught his eye, limping in from the other direction, but without a trace of clumsiness.

"Mara!"

She turned around. "Skywalker." Despite her chilly tone he knew he'd surprised her.

"Are you going back to the medbay?" He reached her just before the turbolift arrived.

She nodded, frowning. "What about you? Isn't your party only getting started?"

He shrugged. "It's not really me tonight. You manage?"

She nodded affirmatively but as they stepped into the lift she leaned heavily against the wall. She was pale. He pushed the medbay as the destination, but she was in too much pain to notice. Gingerly, Luke reached out with the Force. They medbay seemed to be desolated, except for patients sleeping and droids. Well, then...

He sidled up and swung an arm around her shoulders. She started, stiffening, but before she could protest he bent halfway down, sliding his other arm under her knees, lifting her up.

He carefully avoided her angry glance, waiting for her sputter of indignation. To his surprise, however, she looked away instead, her reluctant acceptance telling him exactly how exhausted she really was. He carried her out of the turbolift and through the entire medbay in glum silence, setting her down at the entrance to her private cabin. With an awkward pat on her shoulder he turned and left.

Mara limped the last distance to her bed.

Blast that frigging Jedi! Blast herself, too, for being too weak to tell him to go throw himself out the airlock. Her entire body shivered with exhaustion and pain when she finally stretched out; she had severely overestimated her own strength. She had to get herself well, and quickly too. She had a mission to accomplish and she sure didn't need to be more indebted to Skywalker! After all, it was only a question of time before she would have to kill him!


	9. Chapter 9

Author's note: **Thank you so much for wonderful reviews! Thanks to your encouragement and my fabulous beta reader frodogenic I can post again after only a week! Keep'em coming!**

* * *

**Quagmire – Chapter 9**

**Assimilation **

"Very well, Miss Jade," the Intel Officer announced, his snout pulling to the Rodian equivalent of a smile. "Welcome to the Rebel Alliance. You're hereby free to move anywhere you wish, except for restricted areas, of course."

Mara smiled indulgently. The Rebel's entry process had been about as difficult to navigate as an empty tarmac. She had prepared herself for a long series of difficulties during the interrogations, but her role as a refugee from various slums of the galaxy had gone in straighter than Skywalker's proton torpedo into the Death Star. She couldn't help wondering if the reason was an alarming amount of gullibility from the Alliance's part or whether she herself simply played her role too well. Probably a bit of both.

She gathered the cups of herself and her interrogator from the table and looked around for a place to put them.

"You don't have to do that, Miss," the Rodian told her with an amused smile. "We have droids for that."

"Oh," Mara mumbled, faking distraction. "How silly of me…"

. . .

Some hours later, Mara was off to her first shift on her new job as a maintenance mechanic for the B-wings. She'd used almost two hours and all her charm and persuasion to convince the staff manager – a human male, fortunately - that she was the perfect for the job and had finally managed to convince him to overrule standard Alliance politics. A smile tugged Mara's lips as she remembered his opening declaration: "Newcomers never get assigned such major responsibilities as starfighters." Of course it had helped her cause that able technicians willing to work for an outnumbered cause for no pay were in short supply, but Mara had an impressive resume to back her up. None of it was made up either – she had actually undergone a nearly complete mechanics education some years ago as an undercover at the Verpine company Slayn & Korpil. Also, she had earlier worked both with their Alpha-3 Nimbus-class V-wings and V-19 Torrents on Nickel One. Since B-wings were a Slayn & Korpil product, she had easily been able to point out her qualifications for the job.

The best part – and the reason she had insisted on the B-wing fighters – was that Home One had over twenty work bays dispersed among two hangar apertures on portside, a large one to starboard, and the main hangar on the ship's underbelly. The B-wings were kept in the main hangar, which so happened to be where the X-wings also docked. The Millennium Falcon was in the same hangar too. Mara would have regular access not only to her target but also to everything going on in the front line, and to sweeten the deal she could expect quick incorporation in the traditional information pipeline which it was the informally sworn duty of all shipboard mechanics to maintain.

As she crossed the main hangar, she spotted many curious and interested glances aimed her way from bypassers, pilots and techs alike, but she kept her face closed, pretending ignorance and heading straight to the Deck Officer.

"Private Jade reporting for duty, Lieutenant," she announced, handling over her datacard.

The officer, a moustached man in his mid-forties, took in her appearance with ill-concealed surprise but was too professional to comment. As he read her datapad he pursed his lips and nodded slowly, then looked up and smiled. "First day on the job, eh? You have a great confidence put on your shoulders from start. Usually newcomers never get assigned such major responsibilities as starfighters."

Mara confined herself to a curt nod but the officer wasn't completely convinced yet. "Are you sure you can live up to that? We have easier tasks you could start with, perhaps some teamwork so you can learn to know a few people…"

"I'm not here to socialize, Lieutenant." Mara replied testily. "I'm used to working hard, I'm not afraid of responsibilities and if I make a mistake I trust to be told that immediately without anybody sugar-coating it."

The Officer tipped lightly on his feet, pursing his lips again. Then he nodded. "Fair enough. I'll get someone to show you around and familiarize you with routines. Stubb!" The last was towards a dark haired technician who immediately peeked up from his doings and hurried to them.

The DO showed at Mara. "This is Private Jade. She'll be joining the B-wing crew. Show her the drill."

"Aye, Lieutenant," Stubb confirmed, then towards Mara, "Hi." He had a big nose and puppy brown eyes. His expression was eager, bordering on the goofy.

"Hi back," Mara grumbled. She glared at the lieutenant but he had already turned his back to them so she had no real option but to turn to Stubb again. "So, you're Stubb?"

"Yeah, but just call me Klarent." He gawked at her. "Wow… uh… Hey, you must have some record! Normally newcomers never get such major responsibilities as starfighters."

"You don't say?" Mara rose her eyebrows. "Well, lucky me."

.

To her surprise it turned out that Stubb was a good, albeit rapidly distracted guide, well-informed about many things and with a knack of introducing her to the most useful people. With a little ushering from Mara he even managed to finish the orientation in sensible time. Not even an hour later she was able to begin working on her first fighter.

Due to having put in an appearance at the party the other day, Mara was already able to recognize a few people. She had tried to concentrate on the mechs and ground staff so far instead of trying to mingle with the pilots. Fighter jocks always were in a league of their own. The more uninterested she seemed in Skywalker and his entourage, the more likely they were to relax with her. Besides, 'real life' was lived under deck, in the chatters amongst ordinary workers. It was also here that Mara would easiest be able to pick her unconscious allies. A smile to a mechanic now, making him feel selected and special, could mean the access to the ship he was working on later – not to speak of the perspectives a deck officer could offer. This also meant she shouldn't be too generous with her smiles; and accordingly she was already establishing herself as the reserved type, confident by experience that her looks would keep the men on hook until she had use for them and turned on her charm.

The main problem would, as ever, be how to handle the females. As women were a minority in the Empire's service, Mara had considerably less experience of them than of men, and she was already at a slight disadvantage since she knew that the more men who were eager to make her acquaintance, the fewer females who would be inclined to do the same.

Mara shrugged and threw herself into the delicate task of testing the cooling system of her fighter. Women, as humanoids in general, came in basically two forms: the loners and the pack animals. The loners she didn't fear; they were few in the first place and a straightforward attitude and no-nonsense work ethic were always the key there. The social types were the tricky ones...

Quit fretting, Jade, she ordered herself. You're not here to make girlfriends, you're here to spy and probably kill their favourite hero. Mara had no scruples about her mission. She was aware of the exact amount of dirt she was getting on her hands, but that didn't mean she wanted to pile on more.

Suddenly she felt a familiar tingling between her shoulder blades. Quickly she looked up, but the feeling was gone almost in the same instant. Someone was looking straight at her, though – a russet haired, vivacious-looking woman clad in pilot's orange. Mara remembered her. It was the same redhead who had greeted Skywalker at their arrival and who he'd been dancing closely with at the party. The eyes of the two women locked for an instant, then Orange smiled slightly and bent her head in a light greeting, like a senior employee gracefully greeting a new colleague. Mara nodded politely and returned to her work but could feel her stomach knotting for a long while after that.

She knew exactly the meaning of that icy feeling in her back. It had been her danger sense warning her of hostile intent.

. . .

Luke left his cabin, feeling pretty rotten. He'd slept badly again; since returning to Home One his nightmares were back with a vengeance; he'd spent the night hounded by not only Vader and his demands but also by that strangely familiar, cold breath or presense he'd felt the other day. . He had also found himself back at Dagobah, facing Yoda again. He'd seen the old Jedi Master leaning on his crooked stick, eyes accusing and scowling; rejecting, disdaining: 'Too much anger in him – like in his father…'

Wasn't that a hint? Half-proof, almost that Vader was indeed his father? Anakin Skywalker had been full of anger, and anger led to the Dark Side… Was it anger that had brought his father to his downfall? Luke had plenty of it too, he knew; anger, hatred, fear… all these had followed him and colored him for a lifetime already.

Too old. He's too old. Yoda had claimed that too, and finally Luke was starting to understand his assertion. How did you change twenty-four years of bad habits? For some time Luke had tried to comfort himself that his many years of warfare had at least taught him to control his fears, but as time ticked by, even this consolation was melting away. While he was pretty able to control his fear in battle, this present dread was a whole new species; crippling his initiative, laming him and rendering him passive for the first time of his life. It was cold, sneaking, faceless…

No, not faceless. His fear indeed had a face and that was his own, staring back at him in the shadowy cave of Dagobah out of the wreckage of Vader's mask. What if one small mistake was all it took for him to become the man he hated of all his heart?

Hated. There it was again. He had to stop hating. Whether Vader spoke the truth or not he had to stop hating, hate lead to the Dark Side…

Or was the danger really so imminent? Had he misunderstood something? Luke took a deep breath.

There it was - the reason he couldn't, just couldn't date Shira or anyone else right now. These questions were too heavy on his mind, too important, for him to be able to engage deeply in anything else. Luke closed his eyes. He was, no matter what the truth turned out to be, entangled in lies, whether Ben's or Vader's – he didn't need to risk more of them; didn't want anyone else to get involved.

Nobody else deserved to join him in his personal hell.

. . .

"So, what's all this with Luke and Shira?" Han enquired, picking up a tray. He had tried to pump Leia for information since the party, but she'd refused to take any subtler hints, had even sidestepped his straight-out questions, and he was beginning to get tired of her unsympathetic attitude.

Leia shrugged. "Ask him. I have no idea."

"Oh, c'mon, Leia, you know what Luke is like. If I ask him he'll just shrug and blush and stammer something and then next time the gal comes near he'll flee in panic. Does he fancy her or doesn't he?"

Leia's face tightened a degree. Han had in his infinite eagerness managed to approach the matter from exactly the angle she cared least for. "Well, they danced like it last night, that's for sure."

Han frowned. "What's the matter, Princess? You don't like her?"

Leia slammed nutrigrain porridge onto her plate. "Me? Why? Everybody likes Shira."

"Then I don't see what the problem…"

"Why don't you ask him yourself? He's right there." Leia nodded towards Luke who just entered the Mess.

.

Luke stiffened a bit at Han's congenial expression when he approached them, already fearing the worst.

"So?" Han quipped, eyebrows raising in an informed manner. "'Slept well?"

"Yeah," Luke shrugged, sidestepping the question. "You?"

Solo stubbornly kept his gleeful expression, throwing glances at Leia by his side. She rose her eyebrows in disapproval, but it only provoked Han to plunge in deeper. "Well," he drawled, bobbing his eyebrows and slinging his arm around Leia, "sleep really didn't have a whole lot to do with it, but well, that's for sure..."

Leia straightened her spine. When she spoke her voice was low and laced with ice. "I would appreciate if you could maintain even some morsels of discretion, Captain Solo. We happen to be in a public room."

Han's mood shifted as his patience ran short in the same instant. He glared at her, angry now. "Yeah, but we're also, as it happens, talking to an old friend."

Leia scowled. "Luke, as it happens, has an understanding of the word 'privacy'."

Luke shifted his feet uncomfortably. "Unh…"

But Han's fuse was already burning. "Privacy, huh? Discretion, no doubt? You two sure have had a merry time while I was rottening in that carbonite, eh!"

Leia's face fell. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well what do you think, Your Highnessness? Didn't I hit close enough to the mark?"

"Han, you're not seriously thinking…"

"Then tell me what should I think, huh? When I ask about him and that doll earlier you looked like someone had pissed in your porridge!"

Luke glanced around him. It wasn't the first time Han and Leia were quarreling, not even here in the Mess, but this time he felt it draw far too much attention to his taste. He grabbed the Corellian by the arm. "Time for a talk, Han."

Han glared at him in surprise but followed. Leia opened her mouth to protest.

"See you later Leia," Luke cut her off and dragged Han out from the hall.

.

"Hey, hey! I can walk, you know," Han grumbled as he and Luke not only left the Mess but the main corridor as well. Luke tugged the Corellian with him despite his grunting protests, through a maintenance hatch and down an empty passageway, not stopping before they reached a small deserted console.

Luke let go of his arm and turned to face his old friend. Luke's prompt action had at least made some kind of cooling effect on Han bue he was still agitated. "So, time for a talk, huh? And what is it we should talk about that we have to run and hide before we do?" he quipped, not prepared to let go of his tantrum.

Luke clenched his teeth, provoked by the tenacious accusations. "There's only one reason we came here, and you know it, Han. I just wanted us to have a bit of privacy."

"'Privacy'- there you go again! Is this some kind of word of the month now? You know what? I think it's remarkable how 'private' you and Leia have gotten while I was away. Secretive and holed up, no hanging out with old friends or…"

Luke fidgeted. Han was getting too near a topic he'd rather avoid. But his reluctance would be misjudged, maybe whip Solo up even more. Han seemed to be in his most ornery state of mind – but if Luke only could make him understand how things had been like while he was away… "Look, Han, we've all had it rough, Leia especially…"

"And you were there to comfort her, no doubt?" Han jeered. "Well, isn't that conven – "

Then he silenced and stared dumbfounded at his friend. Luke had punched him, hard, on his chin.

Luckily it took more than that to knock the Corellian out. "What was that for?" Solo sounded genuinely surprised.

"Because you're such a moron!" Luke burst out. "You've won the gold and yet you stand there, just about to throw it awayjust because you can't control your fracking jealousy!

"Blast it, Han! You should know better! You should know better of me, and even if you don't consider me above what you're suggesting, you should at last know better of Leia! Why don't you use your head for a half a nanosecond? Or did your judgement melt away along with the carbonite? Leia's way better than any of us, and lightyears above what you accuse her of! And if you can't see that, then you don't deserve her even the tiny bit I thought you did!"

The air left Solo in a way no punch could have achieved. He slumped heavily onto a box and rubbed his jaw.

Luke didn't know what to do so he dropped cross-legged down beside his friend, waiting for Han to say something.

After a long silence Solo opened his mouth. "I guess you're right, kid." His voice was quiet and the words came reluctantly. "I don't know why I'm acting like a first class Huttslime here… It just seems so…"

"Hard to catch up?" Luke suggestedsoftly.

Han nodded. "Yeah.I feel like I've been away for a lifetime. I mean, last thing I remember, Leia and me were almost enemies sometimes. And Lando, he turned me in; now he's back to being my buddy again, and I'm even supposed to trust him, right? Hell, even the war ain't the same. Last thing I knew your fleet was squirreled away all over the galaxy and now they've got it all together for some stupid heroic scheme. And you're different too, Luke. When I left you were just a kid – admittedly, a pretty spunky one, and a good pilot and stuff. And ok, you'd started to get a grip of things, turning Commanderand so, but still, just a kid. Now you're…" He shook his head. "I don't know what you are anymore."

Luke swallowed hard. He understood exactly how Han felt. He'd lived it all himself, just months earlier. And he was still confused. To put it mildly.

"Yeah. I know what you mean," he mumbled.

Solo glanced down, his gaze lingering inquiringly on his friend. "Are you ok, kid?"

"I don't know Han. Sometimes I really don't know" Luke muttered. "As you said yourself, things have changed really fast. I hope it's for the better, I know much of it is at least." He looked up. "But no matter what, don't you go and spoil what you have with Leia! She's been through hell when you were away, you know. You should be glad you weren't here to see her."

"I wish I'd been here." Solos voice was muffled. "I know she's been through hell. And I know it was because of me."

"Then just make her happy, will you!" Luke pressed. "It's your job, you know. I can't do it for you."

Solo scratched his chin and studied him searchingly. "Yeah. That's the thing, isn't it?

How…do you feel about that, Luke?"

Luke looked him straight in the eye. "As long as you take care of her, I'm fine with it. If you don't, I'll break your kriffing neck!"

"Yeah." Solo nodded thoughtfully. "Fine. Good point." He looked up. "You know, kid, you got a hell of a left jab when you hit like you mean it." He massaged his jaw.

Luke grinned. That was about as sentimental a comment as you could expect from Han. "Told you I'd changed for the better."

They sat quietly for a while. Then Solo punched an elbow lightly in Luke's ribs and winked.

"You seem to be quite busy yourself, huh? That girl, Shira, she's a real fox, isn't she? I talked to her yesterday. Are you gonna make a move on her sometime soon or what?"

Luke groaned.

. . .

Mara was checking on her third B-wing when a woman came to stop beside her. She just stood there, watching in silence and Mara chose to ignore her until she was finished and turning around seemed natural.

The woman was dark haired, lean and intelligent-looking, with blue tattooes around her eyes, suggesting either a delinquent past or an exotic heritage. When she met Mara's eyes she nodded. "So, you're new here, huh."

Mara wiped grease from her hands. "That's right. First day on the job."

"Hmm." The other woman studied her with a measuring look that left Mara very glad she had chosen a certain aggresiveness as a part of her role. Before she had time to find a biting comment, however, the other woman smiled; not a hearty smile but genuine none the less. "Welcome, then. I'm Dantels. And that's my B-wing you're messing with, that's why I was scrutinizing you a bit." She held out her hand.

"Well," Mara took the offered hand, against her will feeling like she was offered an honor here. "I figured that much. All the others who've stopped to ogle at my behind were men…"

Dantels grinned briefly. "Well, there are many inclinations…"

Mara shrugged. "There are many tattoos too. And as far as I could judge from your's, they tell you're straight."

"Ah." Dantels tilted her head a bit with new respect. "That's quite right, I am definitely straight. In fact I was a bit disappointed it was your butt that greeted me today and not Billi Eriks."

"Got a nice one, has he?" Mara asked, amused.

"Very. That's supposed to be it, though. A bit like a kybuck: cute to look at but a disaster if you take it to your cabin."

"Thanks," Mara deadpanned. "Any other potholes I should be watching out for?"

Dantels grinned wickedly in sudden mutual understanding. "Tell you what; you take nice care of my ship, and I'll tell you who's hot and who's not. We girls might as well help each other, right?"

"Right," Mara agreed. "I'll keep that in mind."

.

Mara turned back to the damaged proton-torpedo launcher she'd been working with but hardly had she gone back to her work when Skywalker emerged, heading towards the X-wings it looked like. His expression was slightly tense and he stared right ahead, but near Mara he came sharply to a halt His glance came to stop at her and his expression eased up. "Hi, Mara."

"Hello," Mara replied, trying to sound casual. It was surprisingly hard. Having spent the last days in bacta, her last impression of Skywalker was when he'd carried her that second time and she didn't like the idea of what he probably thought of her. Her mind told her that it was good if he saw her as vulnerable and in need of help, but the thought of being such a person was instinctively repulsive and she was pretty sure he could sense her reaction. She needed to be careful with what she sent out – if her attitude was too much in conflict with what he could read in the Force, he might become suspicious. If only she had more experience of Force sensitives...

"You've got a job?" Skywalker commented, sounding part surprised, part pleased.

Mara nodded warily. "Obviously."

"That's great." He glanced up the potent spacecraft. "Hey, you have a great confidence put on your shoulders from start. It's very rare that newcomers get such major responsibilities as starfighters."

"Thanks," Mara growled. "I've only heard it about fifty times today."

"Ah." Skywalker's expression closed up and he suddenly looked tired. Mara abruptly realized that he'd been pushing himself to be nice to her, but she'd effectively shot him down. But _why _was he trying to be nice to her, dammit? Some misplaced sense of responsibility?

Imperial Intelligence, she decided, must simply have gotten this one wrong. She could sense his state of mind clearer than she'd ever sensed anyone else. She'd expected a ruthless criminal, but everything she'd observed snorted at this suggestion. Luke Skywalker wasn't a ruthless criminal – he was an errant idealist.

Before Mara could find a good retort, Skywalker managed to collect himself. "Well, I'm glad you're settling in. Let me know if you need help with anything, all right?" He nodded and offered a quick smile, turning to leave.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Mara shot back. "You seem to be a busy man."

He froze a second, and she got a clear impression of guilt though nothing showed in his expression. "Of course. And if I'm not around, just contact Leia. After all, we're the ones who brought you here."

It_ was_ out of a sense of responsibility then. That made her feel queer, almost disappointed.

For a moment they stared at each other, both uncomfortable and neither having a clue why. Then Luke nodded. "See you around, Mara."

"Sure," Mara agreed. "And if all you see is my butt cause the rest is buried inside a spacecraft, than take that as a sign that I'm doing fine."

He shot her a last, odd look before continuing swiftly down the hangar.

. . .

He should leave….

Luke rubbed his temples, desperately trying to focus his mind on the mission he'd just been assigned by Madine, who had barely had the decency to give him a single night's rest before shanghaiing him again.

_Why the hell do I have to be such a pushover, anyway? It wasn't even an order! One easy word, Skywalker – no! _

Actually, he knew why he hadn't said no. Wedge had been hijacked too, and Luke wasn't about to back out of extra work if the rest of his squad was stuck with it. There would be a briefing about both assignments in a couple of days time – if he stayed that long, he'd be able to help Wedge with the planning for his mission. Just a few days more… And in the meanwhile, he might as well lay the groundwork for his own mission.

He managed two hours of hard fought concentration, when someone knocked on his door and Solo peered in. "Hey, kid. Still up?"

Luke's mouth twisted; it wasn't even 2100 standard hours yet. "Nope," he offered, discreetly sliding the data concerning the mission into a drawer, under a pile of other datapads and flimsi. Han sauntered in, looking much more like himself; obviously he'd kissed and made up with Leia by now. Maybe the Corellian finally was realizing that his pride made him choose the wrong battles sometimes. "A brandy, Han?"

Solo's face dropped into a loop sided smile. "Never said no to that yet…" He popped easily down on the bunk while Luke dug a bottle out of his closet. "Hey hey, what's this? Corellian?"

Luke grinned outright now. "C'mon Han, you gave it to me yourself!"

"I did?"

"Yeah, my twentieth birthday, remember?"

Han shook his head. "You're crazy, kid! That's three years ago! How could I have any idea you'd still have it?" Then he gasped in only half-feigned horror: "Hey! Don't tell me you don't _like _it!"

Luke chuckled and poured brandy in two cups. Handing one shot over to Han, he started rearranging datapads, chips and piles of flimsi in the effort to create enough open tabletop to put the drinks down. Solo watched in bemusement.

"Careful, kid, that thing might collapse if you put anything else on it," the Corellian commented. "Which are you studying for, med school or law school?"

"Well," Luke admitted gingerly, "in a way it _has_ to do with my further education, so you're right that far. But you of all people should know I'm really only keen on one subject."

Han gaped. "Are you telling me all of that is some kind of Jedi stuff?"

"In a way. I've been collecting everything I could about the Jedi; names, dates, mentions, tales, rumors. One clue leads to another; over time it has spread wide out. To try to put the pieces together is like a puzzle, really. Been working on it for four years now."

Solo whistled. "And here I thought the Empire had cleaned out the history books. I'd never guessed there was this much left to find."

Luke shrugged. "It's nothing like as much as I need, but it's far better that what Mothma thought I'd find. She warned me that nearly all exhaustiveinformation about the Jedi would be wiped out. But there are many clues and small pieces of data still out there; things that don't look like 'Jedi data.' The trick is picking it out."

"Four years!" Solo repeated. "You've really been doing this for four years?"

Luke nodded and couldn't help grinning at his friend's perplexed face. "You never wondered why I've always been such an early sleeper?"

"I figured it was something you picked up at the farm," Han grunted. "But, Luke. This is a major work! Aren't you worried you'll lose it? I mean, we're at war here; a hit in this vessel and this will be all gone."

Luke nodded seriously. "I know. We've been lucky so far. Mon agreed to keep a copy at her quarters, and Admiral Cracken has one on the _Independence_ too. I update it whenever we meet. And Artoo's always carrying a fresh file. And I…Uh, actually I keep one in the _Falcon_ too…"

"You _what_?"

"I asked Chewie awhile back," Luke hurried to explain. "This was beginning to grow and I feared for the same thing as you just expressed. Chewie thought it was ok."

Han took another sip of his brandy. "Course it's ok," he grunted. "You didn't think I'd say no, did you?"

Luke pursed his lips. "Well," he began, "I know how it is with you and us crackpot fool wizards...but not really, no."

"Good. Well, well. So this is what you do while your fellow pilots hang around the Chaos chasing girls… I always knew you're crazy, kid, but at least I know now that you weren't playing with yourself instead. Cheers."

Luke grinned and toasted.

Han was quiet a moment, then continued shrewdly, "Now, speaking of girls…"

"What about them?" Luke sighed, feeling he knew what would come.

"Just before I came here Leia got a message that an old friend of ours will be transferred back to _Home One_, at least for some time…"

Luke frowned; this wasn't what he'd suspected. "Who?"

"Another blonde galaxy saver from Outer Rim; Deena."

"What? Great! When?" Luke forgot to close his mouth.

Han grinned. "In a couple of days. Look, kid," he suddenly turned serious. "Leia told me you were planning to head out on your lonesome for a couple days, but now Deena's coming you'll have to wait, right?

Both pleased and surprised, Luke could only nod. There was no question that he could wait just a little longer in order to meet an old comrade-in-arms he hadn't seen for years. And Deena was a special friend. Very special, indeed.

"Where are you planning to go, anyway?"

Luke started. He glanced at his friend, embarrassed he couldn't tell him. "Uh…"

"It's ok, you don't have to tell me. It's probably as secret as those datapads you stuffed away in such a hurry when I came in." Han waved his hand dismissingly. "Besides, I'm getting used to it; Leia's having a hard time hiding High Command stuff from me all the time. Like I'd want to be involved in all kind of Alliance top secrets."

Then he dampened his voice. "You and Leia have come pretty close these past months, haven't you?"

Luke tensed again for a moment, then sensed how his friend tried, really tried to keep his jealousy and insecurity in check.

"I guess we have," he said reluctantly. "When things mess up around you, you have to stick together with those you feel closest to, and Leia…well…"

Han made a sound part knowing, part shameful. "Yeah, I know, she's good to talk with." He sighed. "Well, I guess I should be glad you had each other."

Luke nodded, moved by Solo's hard-won generosity of spirit. He searched desperately to give him some kind of assurance, some way to make the trust easier without making it seem convenient.

Han, however, shrugged and reached for another subject. "You know another thing I'm really happy about? Lando catching up with his brain again. I really hated having to hate that guy."

"Yeah. Leia and Chewie wouldn't have escaped from Cloud City without him." Luke stared distantly through the wall as if he could see clear to the Anoat system from here. "And without them, I wouldn't either." Unconsciously, he flexed his right hand, something that didn't escape Han's attention.

"You two come along well?"

"We do. I think Lando's a fine guy, though he has his…sides." That launched knowing grins from them both before Luke continued, "He's had a bit of a rough time here, though. The guys are ticked because he can't pass a woman without flashing his best smile. And the girls either get flattered and think him adorable or get really annoyed. So he sort of divides people – and I think he feels worse about that than he'd admit, even to himself."

Solo's mouth twisted. "Yeah, Lando's always been dividing waters. I guess that's why I like him though; he takes it like a man."

"Well, High Command agrees with you, I think. He's been really busy lately, and yesterday he told me he's got something really big coming. I think they've heard about that thing at Tanaab."

"Probably Lando himself who's spread that rumor," Han grunted.

"Possibly, but… wait, it's true, isn't it?" Luke looked suddenly worried.

"Of course it's true. Lando's one of the biggest liars in the galaxy but he's got boundaries. If he's in, then he's in and cheating High Command about his abilities would be putting others in danger. He'd never do that."

Luke raised an eyebrow at him. "Except for that one little incident on Bespin, right?"

"Well," Han amended dryly, "except that. But I played him a similar trick once, so I guess I can't really blame him…" He twisted his cup, wrinkling his brow. "What kind of a task is it that they've given him?"

"I didn't ask."

"But it's big, right?"

"That, I'm sure of."

"Hnh." Han sunk into silence and Luke could sense an odd mood to him. Maybe the old smuggler was finally beginning to accept being bonded to other people.

"So," he finally asked. "What's the story about that trick you played Lando?"

"Ah. That." Han's face brightened into one of his loopsided smiles. "Well, that's quite a story, kid, but if you've got time…"

...

"You're here still? Your shift ended two hours ago!" Stubb's surprised voice cut through Mara's deep concentration. She turned and straightened her back – only now realizing she'd been bending in an awkward position the past hours. There would be hell to pay tomorrow. She sighed.

"Yeah. But that power converter turned out to be more damaged than I thought. See?" Mara gestured with her hydrospanner. "There's a crack right there, I'm surprised no one spotted it earlier."

The technician stepped closer and let out a small whistle. "You're right." He glanced admiringly at her. "Damn, you're thorough! Does it need to be replaced or… ?"

Mara shook her head. "I think I'll be able to fix it. It's my impression you don't exactly swim in reserve parts here."

"We don't," Stubb admitted. "If you can fix it, I will personally owe you one for saving me from those misers running the supply depot. But you should really take a break now. Would you like to join me for a drink? We're some folks going." He gestured towards the hangar exit where a small company had gathered. Mara spotted Skywalker's redhead among them; obviously the center of the party – both men and women were laughing at something she was saying. She hesitated. It was a prime opportunity to wriggle herself into Skywalker's circle. But at the moment, gaining creditability was more important than infiltration.

"No thanks. I want to finish this baby – and by then I think I'll be ready to turn in. Another day, perhaps."

Turning her back to Stubbs' disappointed face, Mara went happily back to work on the converter. She'd always been better at killing people than socializing with them, anyway. As all of them were eventually going to find out.

T.B.C.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's note: **Again - thank you, thank you, thank you all reviewers! You give me fuel to do this!

Thank you all readers too! I hope you continue to enjoy the story. Don't be shy to review a few words every now and then!

And _**thank you frodogenic **_for your fabulous beta job on this story. In truth it's more alpha than beta!

**

* * *

****Quagmire – Chapter 10**

**Deena**

Thanks to their adjacent hangars, Mara found herself running into Skywalker about every day. Every time he stopped to say hello, often tailed by that chirping astromech droid of his. Their chats were rather short and pretty impersonal, but that suited her fine, both on an emotional and professional level, and she did her best to stay neutral, holding her tongue pretty much in check now. As long as they spoke regularly, she was making progress she knew; nothing was as dulling as routine. The more Skywalker got used to seeing her around, the more naturally he would take it when she needed to come closer. At some point she should take him up on his offer of help, but she wasn't in a hurry – that big-brother attitude of his didn't need encouraging. If she didn't give it time to settle he'd probably take to piggy-backing her around the ship once a day.

About a week into her new job she was standing with her head buried in the interior of her fifth fighter that day when the Jedi wandered past.

"Hello, Mara." Well-behaved as always. Today, however, there was a certain glee to him that was new, a feeling of expectation.

"Skywalker," she nodded. It once again struck her how easily she could sense his mind. Why _was _that?

He peered into her engine hatch. "That's the JZ-5, isn't it? Neera let me take a look at her B-Wing once, but that one had a Quadex Kyromaster."

"Yes. I prefer these," Mara replied. "But then, that's probably because I'm more familiar with Slayn & Korpil products."

He nodded, eyes on the engines and Mara deducted by his lack of response that he already knew about her background. Probably he'd read her Intel file – that's what she would have done, had she'd been in his shoes and brought a stranger to a secret base. Deciding this was a perfect moment to try to expand on their acquaintance a little, she reached out for her thermocup and was just about to ask Skywalker about his mechanical experiences when he pulled his attention away, turning it towards an _Action VI_ transport a bit further down the hangar.

Mara bit back the question and followed his gaze. She had noted the ship when it landed some moments ago, but having her hands more than full with her work she hadn't paid it any attention. In retrospect, when she'd been busy congratulating herself for landing this job with her spectacular skills of persuasion, she hadn't realized just how enormous the lack of able mechanics was in the Alliance. In fact, everything lacked enormously in the Alliance. Stubb had told her that there was a shortage of everything in turns; mechs, ships and pilots. Not because there were too few, really, but because everything came in bursts; usually there was a lack of ships and pilots, but since there recently had been a huge boost on that front, there now was a shortage of mechanics.

Which told her that the Rebel Alliance was likely assembling its fleet and preparing something grand, probably a large-scale assault, Her Master doubtless knew about it already, but she would report to him nontheless.

Skywalker glanced back at Mara. "Well, I heard the DO singing your praises yesterday, so don't worry about any lack of experience – you're doing well." He nodded towards the bulk freighter. "You'll excuse me?"

"Of course."

The Jedi continued towards the transport ship and Mara took a sip from her cup, following him closely from the corner of her eye. She had more or less given up her efforts to make this unassuming young man correspond with _the_ callous terrorist she'd originally expected. But to her confusion, he didn't even fit with the confident warrior who had stood alone against superior numbers in Jabba's palace. Far from self-assertive, he seemed almost reticent. His leadership must be based on skills and ability to inspire confidence, not authoritativeness. On _Home One_ Skywalker didn't even dress like a Jedi but had changed his black outfit permanently to standard beige fatigues.

Mara actually had to admit that she found him… appealing, almost, despite her knowledge of his criminal record. There was a guilelessness about him that was hard to ignore. After all, he was very young – hadn't been Jedi for that long either. He was at least fifty percent a well-meaning farm boy who, had he not inadvertently tripped into the deep end of the pool, could still have been living an utterly uneventful and treason-free life on his fifth-rate dust ball of a planet. Luke Skywalker had probably been sucked in by the adventure, just like so many other young men and women; never understanding that his actions made him a traitor towards the galaxy he claimed to defend, endangering so many innocent lives…

Mara tried to rationalize that she felt sympathy towards Skywalker because he still seemed so close to those innocent beings whom she, as the Emperor's Hand, sought to protect. She wondered if Skywalker with his Jedi ambitions harbored a similar goal. Well – even if he did, the fact remained that she was actually achieving that goal, whereas Skywalker was a deadly menace to galactic society. With better influences he might have been her comrade in arms, but as it stood they were enemies. Skywalker was still her target, and nothing she felt or rationalized could change that.

As Mara watched, Solo came strolling from the_ Millenium Falcon_ along with his Wookiee co-pilot and joined the young Jedi. They arrived at thetransport just as the landing ramp lowered and people started to stream down. One of them, a fair-haired young woman, stopped at the top of the ramp and waved frantically at Solo and Skywalker, beaming like a binary system while bouncing on her feet. Mara thought she had seldom seen anything so vapid but the two men and the Wookiee seemed to find it amusing. Skywalker even bounced and waved back, much to Mara's surprise. The girl threw her head back in roaring, rather unbecoming laughter and sprinted down the ramp with an overstated merriness. Skywalker caught her halfway and swung her off her feet in a circle.

Mara followed the performance, scowling, and reached out with the Force as her Master had taught her, in order to augment her hearing.

"…so good to see you!" she caught.

"Great to see you too, Deena!" Skywalker laughed. "And I heard about your engagement! Congratulations!"

"What?" Solo exclaimed. "Deena Shan engaged? Do you realize you've just broken a thousand Rebel hearts?"

The blonde girl giggled in delight and shook her finger playfully at the former smuggler. "You should be talking! You're nearly married yourself, so I've heard! How great to see you too, Han! You sure gave us all a fright – letting yourself get carbon-frozen like that! Don't you ever do that again, hear me?" She swept Solo up in a bear hug. The Wookiee got one too.

Solo shrugged lightly. "Sorry, Shan. I'll try not to upset you another time. On the other hand," he gave Skywalker a light punch, "nowadays I got the kid here to save me at the last minute." He winked at them both. "Don't know where he's learned that. Must have picked it up somewhere…"

Skywalker rolled his eyes and glanced away. It happened to be in Mara's direction and before she could turn away their eyes had met. Mara tried to look unconcerned and returned to her work, but the Jedi smiled and nodded.

The blonde girl followed his gaze, openly curious. "A friend of yours?"

Skywalker shrugged. "We sort of picked her up by accident at Jabba's palace. She's decided to stay on as a mechanic here. I'd be happy to introduce you, though. She's still new here."

Deena laughed merrily. "That makes two of us then, because so am I."

"You're not new!" Solo protested. "You know us!"

Deena made a mocking face. "Are you going to make up for all my friends on _Liberty_ now? You haven't changed one bit, Han Solo. You still think too highly of yourself!"

They all grinned and started towards Mara who made herself busy with the fighter and didn't turn when they approached. When they were only steps away, so close a deaf droid would have heard, she turned to face them, exposing her most unwelcoming attitude. She had no interest in acquiring a babysitter, least of all some annoying airhead. The Jedi was probably just trying to foist the irritating twit off on somebody else.

The men and the Wookiee ignored her rebuffing expression but Shan wasn't used to her yet. She glanced uncertainly at Skywalker but he just smiled assuringly. "Mara, I'd like you meet an old friend of ours, Deena Shan. Deena, this is Mara Jade."

"Hi!" Deena Shan reached out an eager hand. She was a tad chubby, with merry, slightly keyed-up blue eyes, a plump mouth formed into a determined smile, and blonde hair in a state of furious opposition with the semi-long cut it had been forced into. She smiled amicably now, clearly eager to please.

Mara reached out for a cloth where she carefully dried her hand before accepting Deena's outstretched one. "Pleasure," she grunted.

Solo exchanged glances with Skywalker. It was apparent that Mara's abrasive attitude was beginning to annoy him. Skywalker, however, was still smiling. "Deena has been in the Alliance almost as long as we have. Some years ago we were on several missions together but then she was assigned to _Liberty_. We haven't seen each other in two years."

"How wonderful," Mara replied flatly.

Skywalker looked her straight in the eye, like was he searching for an opening. When he didn't find it, he remained crushingly courteous. "It is." He put his hand on Deena's shoulder and began to guide her away again. "Well, at least now you know each other. See you around, Mara."

Mara nodded mutely and turned back to her work.

She could hear Solo sputter as they departed. "I'm telling ya, kid, I have met some tough customers in my time, but she's the worst."

Deena mumbled, "She's not really what I'd call 'friendly'…"

"She's ok," Skywalker soothed. "She just prefers to keep people at arm's length. In a way that's a kind of honesty…"

Mara frowned without turning, not sure anymore that she had reacted adequately to the situation. To hear Skywalker defend her loyally behind her back once again reminded her that he wasn't exactly the person who'd try to foist anyone off on someone else. If anything he'd hike miles out of his way to take on the job. Besides, if the blonde, dumb as she seemed, was an old and close friend of the Jedi, it had maybe been a bad idea to brush her off like that. And as for _honesty..._

It put a fowl taste in her mouth to hear that characterization coming from the man she soon would kill – if there was something she truly valued, then it was honesty and loyalty.

She _had_ actually made an oath when she entered this blasted Allience. Rattled off a prewritten string of words confirming that she would keep silent about what she saw and heard. She had stood there and lied to their faces – because when she contacted her Master, she would tell him everything she knew.

It wasn't first time in her life she'd lied. Quite the contrary, it was a constant part of her job and she had accepted that a long time ago. She was saving her honesty for her Master. _He_ was the one who could count on it.

Shrugging away her wave of discomfort, Mara glanced over her shoulder and saw the small party just about to leave the hangar. Suddenly Skywalker started, stiffening. He turned about, glancing warily around him, his stance close to battle alert. For a moment he looked straight at Mara and she could sense a frown shadow his face. Then his expression changed completely again and he broke into a sheepish grin and winked, his gesture changing to something between the self-conscious and the flirtatious. Mara scowled for a few seconds, at complete loss for a proper response. Then she realized that he wasn't looking at her at all, but behind her. Turning, she saw Shira Brie a few meters away, return the wink as she turned back to her X-wing and shimmied up into the cockpit. Mara watched for a few minutes until Brie's fighter roared her away to her shift, closely followed by three from her squadron.

_Interesting._

_. . ._

Luke stood completely still while the small metal bulbsbuzzedaround him. With few exceptions he was able to move his lightsaber in time to top the incoming blasts without even changing his stance, only by moving his arms**. **He was up to nine now, and felt pretty certain that he would be able to manage an entire squad. Not that the number of incoming blasts really made a difference; the trick was simply to let the Force continue to flow uninterruptedly through him and not be disturbed by consciousness. While parrying and returning the blasts his mind kept buzzing. Maybe if he added more remotes he'd have less time to be distracted. Why did his brain always seem to work the fastest in the middle of crossfire?

He'd felt 'something' again today. For an instant today he'd thought it came from Mara Jade, the sharp feeling of threat he'd sensed on Tatooine still fresh in his mind, but this was different. He had sensed _this_, whatever it was, many times long before she had even set foot on _Home One_. It simply couldn't be her.

And it wasn't exactly a threat either - more a chilling, uncanny feeling of being watched, like a waiting, calculating mind closing in on him. It was a feeling from his dreams, but by now he was sure he'd felt while fully awake too. He was sure? Heck, in truth he hardly knew if he wasn't imagining. He had tried to search for the source with the Force but without any result. Whatever it was, it could wrap itself away completely.

"That looks pretty good, you know."

Wedge's voice behind him didn't startle him. Luke had sensed him coming for a while already. He closed down his lightsaber and turned around. "Thanks."

Wedge tossed him a towel and eyed him closely as he wiped face and torso. Luke wasn't nearly as sweaty as a normal human ought to be after such a workout. Not that Luke had even been normal as Wedge saw it, and he wasn't exactly in exclusive company on that point. However, the abnormalities in Luke had been growing lately, a slow but steady change from "almost normal" to "strikingly strange." Wedge knew an increasing number of people who had an uncanny feeling about the once well-liked hero of Yavin. It hurt him almost personally that Luke could have called this on himself simply by following his dream to be a Jedi Knight.

But could he have avoided it? The Jedi had always split galactic opinion. Some regarded them as demi-gods, infallible and worthy of worship; others cherished dreams of their extinction. Also, Emperor Palpatine's Jedi purges had reinforced the negative opinions about the former guardians of the Galaxy. But Luke was neither a god nor a monster. He was an ordinary guy with ordinary wishes and needs. And at the moment he was neglecting them all – at least Wedge feared he was.

"So?" Wedge called casually, finding a bench and making himself comfortable. "How's your love life?"

Luke glared at him, bringing a smirk to the Corellian's face.

"Still no progress with Shira?" he continued mercilessly. "You two were dancing pretty close back at the party, I recall, but then you disappeared. And that's over a week ago. Now, I don't know if anyone's told you this yet, but if you _avoid _a girl, you miss out on all the benefits."

"Look, there's no point in any of that right now. I'll have to leave soon anyway," Luke muttered, still drying himself even though there was nothing left to dry.

"You ain't left yet."

"I will soon." Luke bit out.

"…which leads to my second question; _why_ haven't you left yet? I thought you were planning to head out straight from Tatooine."

Luke sighed and reached for his tunic. Instead of pulling it on, however, he dumped down on the bench too, tunic in one hand, towel in the other. "I… got delayed," he finally muttered. "There was that girl, Mara. She was pretty badly hurt and I couldn't just leave her. So I came aboard the _Falcon_, and well, then we were heading in the wrong direction anyway so I might as well come back here…"

"See," Wedge said triumphantly, crossing his arms. "I knew it had to be _some _woman!"

"It's not like that!" Luke bit off.

"No, no," Wedge allowed. "Of course not. She's a looker, though! You have to admit that!"

Luke finally rose to the bait. "Ok," he sighed. "I can't deny that. She catches the eye, all right. Both the way she looks and…"

Wedge nodded, finishing the sentence pleasurably; "the way she moooves."

They grinned both. Wedge added, "Wes claimed that Mara was twice as red haired, twice as green eyed, and twice as stuck-up as Shira."

Luke's grin stiffened instantly. "That's not really fair, is it?" he growled. "Besides, Shira's not stuck-up at all."

"So it's Shira still?" Wedge chuckled. "Well, I thought for a moment you were going for the hard-to-get-girl. Not that I blame you, I like them a bit friendlier myself."

Luke made a face and pulled his tunic on. "It's neither. I've got more important things to fret about."

"You know," Wedge sighed, "it's not like your only choices are marrying the girl or never talking to her. I wouldn't want a serious relationship at this point either but I take the consequences and have fun one night a time instead."

"Yeah, and that works well for you and congratulations with that," Luke retorted a bit tartly. "That's just not my way."

"Fine!" Wedge threw up his hands. "Fine…"

Then he paused and looked at his friend. "But… what is your way then?"

Luke stared at his boots. "I don't know."

Wedge made a sympathizing grunt and after a silence Luke continued, "But I'll know when it is there. It has always worked that way. I have to keep faith in that."

"Fine with me…" The Corellian shrugged, deciding he'd done what he could for now. "Speaking about working, are you coming to that meeting with Cracken and Madine later today?"

Luke nodded reluctantly. "Yeah. One of these days I'll learn to say no to an assignment."

"I'm sure Wes would be happy to give you lessons," Wedge told him. He slipped into a more sober tone. "But seriously, I don't know about you, but I've this feeling things are closing in to something big…"

"Yeah," Luke muttered. "Fast..."

. . .

Han had to brace himself before he could make himself buzz on the cabin door. If he hadn't already told Chewie he would do this, he wasn't sure he would have gone through with it. But he needed to. He _knew_ he needed to.

The door wooshed open and revealed Lando's surprised features. "Hi. Hello." He faltered into silence, but stepped back to let Han into his cabin.

Han gave him a faint smile "Hey…" He paused for a second. "Listen, could I ask you a favor?"

Lando's face closed a little as his well-trained smile came back. "Sure. Have a seat."

Han sat down on a chair and glanced around. Not surprisingly, Lando was in possession of not only a cabin of his own, but also one more elaborately furnished than any cabin Han had been in. Even Leia, princess and dignitary as she was, didn't have more than one chair at her disposal. Oh yes. Lando knew the 'I let you use me if you let me use you' language to perfection, no doubt about it. Only, it wasn't what Han was here about. He took a deep breath. "I was wondering if you could help me with something…"

Lando sat down by the table, steepling his fingers before him. "Sure. I guess I owe you one."

"No." Han shook his head. "I don't think you do. And besides I was… sort of wondering if we could do this… off the record."

"Off the record?" Lando cocked a confused eyebrow.

Han fidgeted, his hand dashing through his hair – this was the hard part. "Yeah. Like ... like you'd do it for Luke, or Leia. Like... well... buddies. Y'know?"

"Ah." Lando's face changed first to surprise, then it softened. "Like that. Yeah. I think we could. I'd be quite happy to, in fact."

Han smiled, trying to conceal his gratitude, surprised it hadn't been harder than this. "I know you've been entrusted with some kinda mission…"

Lando leaned back and shifted in his chair, his face growing worried again. "Um, I don't think I can reveal anything about _that_…"

"Don't worry. You don't have to. You only have to give me a few clues. Only enough to convince HC to give me a mission of my own."

Lando's voice went up. "Your _own_ mission?" He lifted a quirky eyebrow. "Since when did you get suicidal?"

Han gave him a lopsided smile. "Honestly, I dunno. I'd like to think I haven't, yet. But you've gotta admit that I have a lot to fight for now."

"Ah!" White teeth flashed in a knowing grin. _That_ he could understand. "I can see we have a lot to talk about. Corellian? I have a good vintage…"

"Sure. Never said no to that yet." Han smiled genuinely and leaned back, kicking his feet onto the table. Sometimes things went much more easily than you feared. This was going to be a good evening.

. . .

"What do you think?" Wedge inquired quietly of Luke as they left the meeting.

"They're slowly breaking up Rogue Squadron into ad hoc missions, just like you guessed. Shira's promotion and Tycho's assignment were just the beginning."

"Yeah," Wedge agreed. "Looks like I'll be having the cabin to myself for some time to come. They're not letting the nexu out of the bag yet but…"

"It can't be far off." Luke shrugged. "Your target, Vrock Sai'men, has been a major source for us for a longer time, so it's no wonder they'll want him rescued. He's probably the Bothan that knows most about the Alliance in general."

"I'd bet your lightsaber he's got intel that High Command needs yesterday."

Luke grinned. "Considering the whole fleet is assembling, and that's despite the fact that one of our most important spies is in Imperial custody at the moment? I'd take that bet."

"Now what's a puzzle," Wedge continued conversationally, "is that Imperial shuttle they want you to nab. What the ninth hell could they want one of those for? Things can't shoot worth crap."

"Could be anything," Luke mused, "but I get the feeling whatever it is, it'll be one of the most important things we've done in ages."

He paused, considering. "Anyway; you'll have a harder job than me. I think that after we've finished mission assignments I'm going to call my folks together to strategize. But you can't, can you? It has to be kept completely quiet until you're all out and away from here."

Wedge nodded thoughtfully. "I guess. Who will you take?"

"Hobbie and Thorben come first to mind. And to be honest, I'd like to have Shira with me on this as well. I think it can be arranged, after all it will only be a three/four day thing."

"I'm sure it can. But Hobbie you say? _And _Shira?"

"You want one of them? I thought you'd go for Wes, that's why I didn't even try to get him, as you maybe noticed," Luke grinned. "If I'd known you don't care for poor Jansen anymore I… Hey, don't push me!" Luke dodged Wedge's assault, the familiar banter lightening his mood considerably. "Ok, who do you want? You want Hobbie? Of course you want Hobbie, you can't pull off a thing without Hobbie…"

"Actually I could use a girl, now you say it," Wedge admitted. "After all, there's no better way to get backdoors opened. But she doesn't have to be a pilot. She just has to look sweet and dumb."

"Take Deena. She can pull that off with one hand behind her back. And she's quite experienced with missions in dark. If she knows too much she just gets nervous and starts doubting herself, but she's a fantastic improviser."

"Hmm…" Wedge looked thoughtful. "But she's not in the squadron. Perhaps I should take Karie instead?"

"You just said she doesn't have to fly. Besides, you'll never get Karie to look dumb. And I think it would be good to leave as much of the squadron intact as we canwhile we're away. After all it looks like we'll be away at the same time, at least partly."

"You're right. So? I get Hobbie and Wes. And maybe Deena. You get Shira, Thorben and…?"

"Alph. Hey, don't worry about the planning part. I'll help you of course. You're not on your own until you've left."

"Well, I sorta counted on that," Wedge grunted. "And who's worried?"

. . .

Mara was sitting in the Mess, enjoying her hard-won loneliness, when Deena Shan entered. She picked up some brogy stew, looked around and apparently saw no one she knew. Except Mara.

Mara did her best to pour discouragement into the Force but Shan set her jaw, put on a determined smile and walked straight up to her.

"Hi!" she chirped gleefully and sat down without asking for permission. Mara swallowed most of her irritation, nodded a curt greeting and continued to eat. Chaos take Skywalker! What had he made this girl believe?

"How's the food?" Deena enquired, and started to rummage about her plate with the fork.

Mara raised an eyebrow. "Taste it." she suggested.

"Generally, I mean," Deena insisted and plunged a large forkfull stew into her mouth. "Mhh. Hey! Better than _Liberty's_!" She smiled broadly. "If this counts for general."

Mara eyed the girl's not exactly meager form up and down. "Really? No wonder you're so thin then."

Deena looked up at her in surprise. Then she started to laugh.

Mara put her fork down and scowled but the girl was laughing heartily, and Mara couldn't evaluate whether she hadn't got the insult or just found it funny.

Finally Deena regained her ability to speech. "You're really that kind of a seriously wicked type. Luke explained it to me. That's great! Wonderful! I had to think it over first, but I really like it. As Luke said, what you hear is what you get."

Mara glared at her in surprise, finding no proper retort.

"It's so refreshing!" Deena explained. "Most people try to be so nice all the time. And then so few manage in the end anyway. Me for example. I always try to be so nice to people because I hope they would like me, And far too often I either don't succeed or then I do and find out that I don't like them as much as I should and it make me feel so false. It's much better to start out with not making any promises!

"I've tried that a few times too, of course" she went on. "But I always screw it up. I'm too friendly. Not because I'm nice, I guess, but because I simply want people to like me. I always get so exited when someone does. It must be my old man's fault." She had continued to stuff food into her and talked while chewing.

Mara stared at her, slightly disconcerted. "What does your old man have to do with this?" she asked reluctantly.

Deena's eyes widened. "Everything! Your parents _shape_you**. **When you're a kid you take all they say for granted. Later, when you grow and maybe start rebelling against them, you can still go on in their footpath, without realizing it. And if you ask me, that's where it's getting really interesting 'cause…"

As she continued, Mara listened bewildered, absolutely clueless about what to say or how to react. Deena talked like a waterfall, pouring out about her childhood and youth on a fifth rate, Outer Rim planet, about her discouraging father and her eventual decision to leave and join the Rebellion instead of marrying some bore and give birth to a bunch of brats, every bit of the story minutely elaborated with her views and reflections. Her story was as banal as her psychological insight and Mara, who'd studied extensive psychology for years as a part of her training, could feel the sharp retorts itch on her tongue. Yet, as the blond girl babbled on, her sarcasm reluctantly started to melt away. There was no doubting of the earnestness of this girl and her story. This wasn't theory served out by an accomplished and distanced lecturer from the smart coteries of Coruscant. This was an individual, pouring her own, rocky life out in the light with the earnest intention of getting a better grip of it. Annoying or not, Shan deserved some sort of respect.

Besides, the way she was talking, there was no room to comment.

Mara continued to eat, eyes directed at Shan. Every once in a while she let out a little grunt to prove she was listening. Well, she was, actually.

When they parted Mara couldn't help asking, "So what's your job here?"

Deena looked surprised. "I forgot to tell you? I'm a supply officer. So I'm sure we'll see each other around quite a lot."

"I guess so," Mara mumbled reluctantly**.**

Well. It could be worse.

T.B.C.


	11. Chapter 11

I'm so amazed for the wonderful replies I'm getting** - **thank you so much! And to all of you who are reading** -** thank you so much to you too! Don't be afraid to drop me a line, I'm also happy for constructive criticism. 

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**Concerns, Commitments and Containers**

It wasn't exactly ideal to contact her Master from a cubicle in a crowded cabin, but as a junior techie aboard an Alliance ship pressed for space she had few options. At least her bunk could be sealed into a private cubicle. Mara couldn't kneel on the bunk, the ceiling was too low for that, but she did her best, crumbling on her knees in the cramped compartment, back bent, giving her first report to the Emperor as well as she could muster.

Afterwards, she rolled on to her back, laying there for a long time. She digested and dismantled the feeling of loss, so familiar by now, overcoming her as it did every time her Master broke their telepathic contact. Here behind enemy lines, the emptiness that followed felt so much more palpable but Mara didn't know what repelled her more; that hollow feeling – or the constant buzz of people around her. Since she'd left the _Millennium Falcon_ she hadn't been alone in a room bigger than a 'fresher – and after two weeks under those circumstances, it was starting to get to her.

_It's just another environment, _she reminded herself sternly. _You've adapted before, you can do it again. _During her training she had spent plenty of time under worse conditions. She had experience of hiding in a bush for three days, surrounded by enemies that would kill her at slightest sound or motion, she had worked in teams proceeding through jungles and swamps, she had learned to mingle in like a local in the most repelling neighborhoods…

But on those missions she had always had a deadline, or at least a clear purpose - some goal to strive for. In this mission, she was slowly becoming aware that she had neither. After this latest briefing with her Master, it was evident that the elimination of Skywalker wasn't exactly just around the corner. Mara couldn't hold back a nasty suspicion that she had managed to position herself too handily, into a post where she could be kept under wraps against the possibility that need would arise for her particular abilities. That was new to Mara. She had already lined up a dozen different tasks she could undertake in her current situation, but her orders were clear, indisputable. Wait. Stay low. Be prepared.

Mara gritted her teeth. Well, she would do just that. _And_ she would collect information. Surely her Master wouldn't object to that...

Bracing herself, she pushed open her cubicle. Five surprised faces spun towards her. No wonder the cabin had felt particularly crowded today; her three cabin mates had invited visitors.

"Whoa, Mara, you gave us a shock there!" Niliya, the oldest of her cabin mates, cried out. "We were so sure you were on shift! How'd you sleep so long? We've been playing sabacc for ages here!"

"Yeah," one of the visitors, a female Zabrak, agreed with an awkward laugh. "And we haven't been particularly quiet either." They exchanged glances and Mara knew they were wondering whether she had heard her name crop up in their discussion.

In fact she had, and the fact that they had called her 'weird', 'insular' and 'abrasive' didn't bother Mara one bit. People's dislike most often was based on their own insecurity; their opinions could be changed in the blink of an eye by a blunt admission that you'd been wrong and some concentrated wheedling. And at any time she preferred condensed wheedling for a clear purpose than pointless and tiring socializing with people she dismissed anyway.

She put on her best and most innocent smile, rubbing her eyes. "I think I woke up a few times the last hour, but then just fell asleep again. I swear, I've not been such a sound sleeper in all my life. I guess I'm still getting used to this place."

"You're working too hard, you should take some time off once in a while." Niliya glanced at the others, suddenly dithering. "Uh, would you like to join our game, perhaps?" A few of the girls shot her reproaching glances but others nodded in ginger sincerity, still prepared to give Mara the benefit of the doubt.

Mara made a mental note of who reacted how and smiled almost warmly. "Thanks, but not today. My shift starts in an hour and I need to get some food first."

"Well, ok." Nilya looked half relieved, half softened. "See you later, then."

"Sure," Mara smiled. "Enjoy your game."

Passing to the fresher she used the Force to boost her hearing and heard the Zabrak say in surprise, "She seemed perfectly nice to _me_, Niliya. Why in heck don't you like her?"

Mara smirked and started the sanistream.

. . .

Leaving the Mess almost an hour later, she managed to co-ordinate her pace to catch Dantels entering a turbolift. Since her arrival she had met the other woman a number of times, but while being courteous, benevolent even, the former smuggler made no effort to close the distance between them. This suited Mara perfectly. Calrissian and Stubb were only the most stubborn of the admirers she'd attracted over the past few days, and while she'd have to close in with a few of them at some point in order to get information, she was content to study the overall patterns first from a distance.

Nera Dantels was a bit of a lone wolf herself; never moving with the other girls, staying to herself or with her fellow B-wing pilots in Dagger Squadron. However, Mara had a good feeling about the other woman, her judgement not least, and decided to finally make use of the earlier offered help. Might also be a good opportunity to dig a little into her past...

"Going for the hangar?" she asked casually as she reached for the control panel.

Dantels nodded and Mara palmed the destination.

"So," she continued, leaning back against the lift wall, "you were a smuggler before you came here, right?"

Dantels nodded again.

"What made you stay?"

"Love." There was a pause. Then Dantels continued, realizing she'd said too much to stop at that. "But he's dead now. Biggs Darklighter. He was from Tatooine."

"Tatooine? Like Skywalker?"

Nera nodded, her eyes wandering to some distant past . "It was supposed to be only a fling, but… Well, I fell in love. Thoroughly. He died at the Death Star, I stayed here to look after his best friend, got a few friends myself… Suddenly four years had passed." She shrugged. "The Alliance can do that to you; many good people taking care of each other."

The turbolift opened and they started down the passageway to the main hangar. "What about the Great Cause?" Mara inquired. "Isn't that what all you Rebels are so keen on?"

The other woman laughed. "It was the Empire that made smuggling good business. I was a good smuggler, but it's not like I always dreamed of being outside the law. I don't believe in the Great Cause, it's the people here I stay for. When that's said, of course I hope that under a different government I could run a legal trade instead of getting my hands dirty. You know how it is, one does what one have to in order to survive."

She pursed her lips thoughtfully, then added, "The problem with smuggling is just that too many are prepared to do _anything_."

"Are you still in touch with what's going on?" Mara lowered her voice somewhat as if this had ben her reason for making conversation at all.

Nera glanced at her. "I try to be. I've heard that there's a few out now that try to do things differently. I don't know, inspired by the Alliance, perhaps," She gave a wry smile to underline how unlikely she thought that was.

Mara returned the grin. This was news to her too. "Who, for instance?"

"There's this guy called Car'das. They say he's retiring now, but he has a Chief Lieutenant, Talon Karrde who's supposed to be of the same mould. Unfortunately, I don't know that much. Only that they keep away from slaves and spice and focus on selling intelligence a lot."

Mara nodded thougtfully. "Smart. Especially if they're going to do business with the Alliance. Do you think that's their motivation?"

Dantels shook her head. "The Alliance already has its sources, and Car'das and Karrde are trying to be strictly neutral. No, I think it really is a question of morals."

Morals? In smuggling? Well, why not? After all, she'd been forced to admit that Rebels had them, after a fashion. Mara hurried to change subject. With Dantels this talkative – she had already found out that was pretty rare - she had another question more pressing than chasing smugglers. "Another thing, this Shira Brie…"

Dantels glanced up, abruptly wary. "What about her?"

"What does she actually do here?" Since that first day, Mara had observed Brie several times with a semicourt, always the gleeful center of attention. Judging from what was said about her, the woman was more popular than Wynssa Starflare.

Dantels face was completely blank now. "She's an X-wing pilot," she replied. "Very capable. Used to be a Rogue. Got her own squadron a couple of weeks ago. Didn't you know?"

"Well, I knew just about that much…" Mara tried.

Dantels shrugged and turned sharply towards the pilot's ready room down the crossing corridor, adding over her shoulder. "Show your interest in her and I'm sure she'll welcome you among her friends. She's a very friendly person."

. . .

Apart from the Mess Halls, there were a few recreation areas on _Home One_. The squadrons had one rec room each. There was an improvised holovid theater, an auditorium where skit troupes sometimes played and – quite surprisingly – three small hydroponic greenhouses that for some strange reason had been left intact when the giant ship was converted from an exploration vessel to a combat cruiser. Before Dagobah, Luke had seldom spent time in any of them. Nowadays he was a regular guest.

Sometimes he came there to meditate or simply to feel the strengthened thrum of the Force in the plants and insectoid life. Other times he came with a datapad, having found that he could concentrate better in this living and pulsating environment than in the frigid atmosphere of his cabin. He favored the smallest greenhouse and not seldom had it all to himself, most people seeming to prefer the two larger ones.

This particular day he'd enjoyed a full three hours, meditating in blissful solitude when a familiar voice pulled him back to the present.

"Hello Luke."

He blinked, slowly retrieving his mind from the intriguing, ever-changing layers of the Force, but when he finally looked up, his face lit up in a sincere smile. "Hey, Leia!"

Leia smiled. She was clad in a dark green jumpsuit with a padded jacket and her hair was braided and gathered in a chignon, leaving a few strands to fall softly around her face. She looked utterly beautiful and Luke could feel his heart warm at the sight of her. "Forgive me. Am I interrupting you?"

"No, it's fine." Luke assured. He hadn't seen Leia since the quarrel with Han, but that was hardly surprising. He'd been busy himself, to say the least, and Leia must have been doubly so; High Command was seething these days and the pressure spread from there like ripples in the water. But if he was going to run into her anywhere, it would be here. She loved the green, nourishing vegetation, probably because it reminded her of Alderaan.

He didn't need the Force to notice that Leia had something on her mind, she had those furrows on her forehead that appeared every time she was troubled. She dropped down beside him on the soft, dry moss, folding her legs beneath her to match his cross-legged mediation pose. "How are you?" she asked gingerly.

"Fine, but like you, busy." Luke gave her an encouraging grin and was rewarded with Leia's tense expression starting to melt away.

Leia sighed and stretched her neck, rolling her head side to side. "I've been trying to find time to talk to you, but I think I'd have better luck convincing Palpatine to sponsor our next arms deal. Even now I have only an hour at most, but I can't see getting a better chance in the next two weeks at least. Look, I'm sorry about that thing that happened in the Mess the other day…"

Luke shook his head. "Don't think about it. I've talked to Han and, well… I think we made up. I hope we did."

Leia let out a strange laugh. "I hope so too. And I think you did, he's been much more relaxed ever since. But it just shouldn't have come to… I don't know. He can be such a nerf sometimes."

"Sometimes?" Luke tilted an eyebrow at her. "More like _mosttimes_. But he carries it with style, don't you think?"

Leia smiled but a shadow of tension was visible again. "Still, I just can't believe he thinks that I... that we…" She trailed off, her hand picking the mossy ground.

"I don't think he believes it either, Leia. He _knows_ you'd never do anything like that. But that's not the same as not _feeling_ jealous. I mean, you've been in love with him for six months, but where he's coming from it hasn't been more than a couple of weeks."

Leia regarded at him for a moment, considering his words, then nodded. "Yes, there's a difference there. I understand what you mean. But what can I do to reassure him? The only solution I can see is time."

Luke smiled. "Not to interfere, Leia, but I think you could stop the passage of time with just a smile. I refuse to believe you'd have any problems making it run faster either."

Leia blushed, then met his eyes with a twinkle in her own, her first bashfulness giving way to gamely acceptance. "Well," she conceded, a roughish smile starting to tug the corners of her mouth. "Perhaps I should give that a try."

They sat in silence for a while. Luke resisted the urge to put his arm around those slender shoulders that he knew were far too burdened with responsibilities and losses. Not that he didn't think Leia wouldn't appreciate it but better not - it was still too complicated. Perhaps it would get easier again. He hoped so - and just sitting here like this gave him renewed hope it would.

"You know he thinks of you like a brother, don't you?" Leia's voice was quiet.

Luke nodded. "He's always looked out for me like a big brother would do – and I looked up to him and his way of doing things too. I guess Han's always been the kind of guy every kid wants to be; smart, cool, in check."

He didn't add the obvious: 'a guy would could capture the heart of a Princess, even against her own expressed conviction.'

And as things had developed, Luke knew with a sting of disappointment that whatever he'd be, he'd never be anything like Han. He would never be the cool guy but the weird. Never be the smart but the obscure one, never be admired for saving the day but always be requested to do more because he had those strange powers so surely it wasn't too much to ask… No, his path had taken him into a completely different direction. Did Han know how much Luke still looked up to him, still admired him at heart?

Not for the first time Leia's thoughts seemed to follow his. "I think he knows. But he needs time. So many things have changed when he was away."

She was quiet for a while longer, then added softly, "And perhaps he's the one who changed most of all."

. . .

The meeting was over and people streamed out of the conference room faces serious or quietly murmuring between themselves.

Han, who had been waiting outside, hurried to catch up with Madine and Cracken as they left the room. "Listen, General, um, Generals…"

Cracken, who had recognized Han's abilities a long time ago despite his all-around insolence, hid a smile, but Madine frowned. Being ex-Imperial himself, he was ever-suspicious towards other defectors, and had a well-practicedreservation for Solo's total lack of military decorum.

Han cleared his throat. "Listen, I heard about this Endor mission – "

Both generals hushed in alarm. Glancing sharply around, Madine grabbed his arm and pulled Han with him, all three of them retiring back to the conference room.

"How?" Madine snapped. "Where did you hear about that?"

"Well…" Han wasn't about to put either Lando or Leia in an awkward position here and realized that he had better be saving their necks right away, especially if he was intending to keep this a secret from the latter. "Ah, you know, a bit here and a word there, ain't that hard to put the pieces together." He flashed his trademark lopsided smirk.

Madine crossed his arms. "And what is it you want to know, Solo? This is top secret information."

Han had no idea of how else to say it, so he simply blurted it out. "General, I volunteer for that operation. Tell me what you want and I'll get it done."

Half an hour later Han left, feeling cautiously optimistic. He'd gotten himself on the list of volunteers now, but that was only half way. What he wanted was to lead that mission.

Lead that mission… Heck, he didn't even really know what the mission was about. He just knew he wanted to do this, because if anyone could sneak in anywhere it was him, and because he wanted to prove himself to Leia now. Prove to her that he was a changed man, a man she could trust and rely on, could stay with… Someone as reliable and honorable as… well, as Luke. Gods… what had he got himself into now?

Han took a deep breath. She was worth this. Besides, it wasn't like he didn't support her ideas, not anymore. He just didn't want to admit that to her quite yet. Old habits died hard.

. . .

Mara was just laying a final hand on her last B-wing for today when a gleeful voice spoke up from right behind her.

"Hi"

She almost jumped and twisted about, hydrospanner ready to strike. Deena Shan stood behind her, smiling expectantly. "Have you eaten?"

A bit baffled, Mara shuffled the spanner out of sight. "Uh, no." Suddenly realizing what she was almost about to agree to, she hurried to add, "But my shift isn't over yet. I still have an hour to go."

"That's odd," Deena frowned. "I just asked the DO and he told me you were half an hour overtime already."

"He did? Well, I've never been good at keeping my hours…" Mara stifled a sigh.

"Then you need someone to help you," Deena decided. "Lucky for you that I came around."

"Mara? Uh, hi?" Stubb appeared unexpectedly from under the fighter, making Mara almost backstep from this sudden, massive onslaught of friendliness. "I was wondering if… uh…" He glanced to Deena and lost his concepts.

Mara closed the hatch to the B-wing, trying to buy time. "What, Klarent?"

"I was just wondering whether you were finished with your shift? We could go to the Mess and have something to eat?" Doggy brown eyes fixed dotingly on her and Mara started to panic. What was the matter with everybody? She hadn't been friendly to any of them, not the least, yet they were practically queuing up to get on her good side.

"I'd love to, Klarent," she fidgeted, "but Deena here has already asked me to… uh…"

Deena's eyebrows arched. "To come with me to the supply depot," she hurried to fill in. She flashed a remorseful smile. "Too bad. Otherwise we could have gone together all three of us."

"Yeah, sorry Klarent," Mara hurried, quickly wiping her greasy hands and snatching her things. "Another day perhaps."

Safely out of earshot Mara muttered. "Thanks, you came in handy there."

"No problem," Deena whispered, the joy of their small conspiracy evident in her voice. "Been there myself. Not that I thought him that bad. Cute eyes and all…"

"You realize we can't go to the Mess now," Mara interrupted. "He'd know we've been lying to him." Thinking of it, she realized she had quite an scope right at hands. This was a waterproof excuse to take a peek into the supply halls and how often would she get one? It would be straight out foolish not to use this opportunity.

"Don't worry," Deena assured her. "We can just grab a flatbread wrap from a food dispenser. There's one in the console room and..." Suddenly she stopped like she'd walked into a door. "Oh, golly!" She blushed, mouth still dangling open.

Mara followed her gaze and was greeted by Billy Erik's admirably formed hindquarters, sticking out from the hatch of a B-wing. She hid an amused grin. "Yeah he´s got a nice rear," she admitted. "But he's dumber than some power droids I've known."

"Well, it's not exactly his brains I'm admiring here," Deena retorted in a whisper. "As far as I'm concerned he won't be needing any. With a stern like that he could be semi-sentient for all I care."

Mara's grin widened. "And here I thought you were engaged."

"I was… But I'm getting second thoughts here… Oh, holy moly…!" Deena looked away in embarrassed panic as Billy straightened and turned, revealing a square faced, perfect male beauty, complete with white teeth, black wavy hair and deep blue, empathic eyes.

Mara pulled at Deena's arm. "The best part of him, eventually, is that he's a decent tech too. C'mon."

Deena followed, still stealing peeks over her shoulder. "With him on the floor, how can you get any work done?" she hissed.

"Concentration," Mara told her. "But I use him to sweeten my caf breaks."

. . .

The supply halls were on the lower decks in the aft of the ship and in extension to the power and propulsion systems - just like on many other big star ships Mara had visited. At first sight there was nothing special about the supply rooms either - but something odd niggled at her. Frowning, Mara let her gaze run the dull gray containers and sterile durasteel bulkheads, trying to pin down the reason for her confusion. Then she caught it. "You use plastifoam containers?"

"We do?"

"Yes. Haven't you noticed?"

Deena shrugged. "No. But now you mention it I believe I noticed the containers here were different than those on _Liberty _when I first came here."

"Why not durasteel?"

"I have no idea," Deena said breeziliy. "Why?"

"Well. If plastifoam starts melting it produces a poisonous gas. Polydactylic gas I think it's called."

Deena shrugged again. "Why would it start melting?"

"It would if there was a fire. If this ship took a direct hit for example and something next to the containers started burning."

Big blues eyes just blinked in wonder. "But there isn't anything next to the barrels. Only other barrels."

Mara had to admit that was true. The hall was neat and organized and the only thing visible that seemed likely to start burning was a bunch of flimsi by the console where a fat Gotal officer was poring over a datapad. But the sloppiness of the safety regulations annoyed her anyway. "The risk of melting is why plastifoam mostly isn't used anymore. Unless you absolutely can't afford anything else."

"Hm, there you have your reason, I think." Deena turned to the Gotal at the console. "Hey chief, why is it that our containers are of plastifoam?"

The officer looked up from his datapad. "Because we got a cheap stock," he offered amicably.

"That's what I thought too," Deena told him. "But Mara here is surprised, you see. She thinks we should use durasteel instead."

The Gotal started laughing. "Durasteel? Hey Duchess? This is the Rebellion - we take what we can get. All that expensive high tech stuff goes to weapons and military."

Mara made a face, she would hardly have defined durasteel as high tech. "Why not plastene, then?" she insisted. "It doesn't kill people when it starts burning."

"Because we didn't get a cheap stock of plastene containers," the officer explained patiently. "Besides, plastifoam doesn't exactly kill people either. It only sends out a gas if it starts melting which knocks most species unconscious. And if you don't get the victims away and in treatment within a reasonable time, their inner organs can take damage. But it takes some time. Before that, the plastifoam will start burning and send out a thick smoke which will activate smoke alarms. Any rescue team would have plenty of time to get victims out before they're severely damaged."

Mara rolled her eyes. "Great to hear you've thought of it all. And what if the rescue team is elsewhere occupied? Like, say, in the middle of a space battle?"

The Gotal's smile had begun to look a little strained. "Nobody stays in this area during a battle, miss."

Mara scowled. Rebels!

. . .

Luke found General Madine in the Alliance High Command's assembly room, deep in discussion with Mon Mothma and Admiral Ackbar. All three looked up when Luke entered and he understood that there'd be no getting Madine away from the other two. Not giving himself time to loiter he stepped up to the general. "General Madine. About my assignment to lead Operation Sheep Skin, sir. I'm afraid I can't accept it after all. I'm sorry."

Madine lifted his eyebrows in surprise but waited.

Luke continued, ill at ease. "I can't go to details, sir, but I made a promise to visit a… friend, and I need to keep that. I'm sorry sir. I should have declined immediately but… The thing is, I can't see myself postponing this any longer."

Madine sat quiet for a moment, considering Luke's words and his own before he spoke. "I see, Commander. Might I remind you that you also have made a promise to the Rebel Alliance? An oath."

"I know sir. And I wish there was a way to keep both promises, indeed I do."

The General eyed him, considering. "Perhaps there is…"

Luke looked up, in expectation but Madine continued. "The thing is that I cannot but see your presence here as vital at the moment, Commander. You are not only a very capable squadron leader, you are our most gifted special agent too. And the mission you've been assigned is crucial to the...to what will happen soon. Crucial to the future of the entire Alliance and therefore of the utmost importance to the future of the galaxy. We need you, and we need you now, Commander. Isn't there any way of postponing this trip of yours until you've completed the operation?"

Luke felt himself waver once again when faced with the General's level-headed persistence. "Sir, I'd be delighted to find that way too."

"Even if we disregard your personal abilities, the very attendance of the last Jedi is an immense encouragement on a moral level, deeper than most people care to reflect on." Mothma cut in softly. "Even sceptics can't help but feeling inspired by the support your presence confers on everybody."

"But I'm not a Jedi, Ma'am," Luke sighed. "Not yet."

Blue eyes looked mild and wise into his soul, searching, weighting. To his surprise, Luke didn't feel the least intimidated by Mothma's scrutiny, but stood still, quietly waiting until she spoke again. "You are, however, the last one with their gifts and at least a shade of their knowledge. We all know what it has meant to the Alliance so far. Now would be a poor moment to leave us."

Luke straightened. "Chief Mothma, I…"

"You are afraid to carry this burden, as any young man, his wits intact, would be," she told him knowingly.

I am your father…

Luke's throat felt dry. "That's true. I'm not ready. Perhaps I'm not even the right one to do it."

Admiral Ackbar broke in, speaking for the first time, his voice solemn. "It is my experience that it is far too seldom a question of who's the most suited." He stood with hands clasped behind his back and bulgy eyes to the great windows and the eternal space behind them. "In the end, it is about who stays and does the job - and who doesn't."

"So, young Skywalker," Madine continued quietly. "Will you still take the operation?"

Luke nodded, finally yielding. "Yes, General. I will."

T.B.C.


	12. Chapter 12

**Quagmire - Chapter 12 **

**Confidential Conversations**

"_**Luke!"**_

"_No. Go away. This time I know I'm sleeping. Leave me alone."_

"_**Luke!"**_

"_Go away!"_

"_**Son. Why are you rejecting me?"**_

The pain jolted through him again, but this time it wasn't a searing agony in his right wrist, nor the throb from the countless beatings and bruises he'd got in the battle. Neither was it the torment of a thousand knives that had pierced his soul at Vader's words. In fact, this wasn't his pain at all. So whose was it?

Vader's?

Did the Dark Lord of the Sith feel pain? Agony at Luke's rejection, at his choice? But wouldn't that mean Vader had _feelings_? Was that even possible?

_Of course it's possible, moron – anything is possible in a dream__!_Temporarily relieved from this disquieting new question, Luke turned in his sleep, his dream taking a different, calmer turn for a short solace in the early hours of morning...

. . .

"Have you talked to Luke lately?"

Leia stopped dead at the question, then caught herself and tried to continue the re-organizing of her datashelf like she hadn't. Meeting Han's glance she realized he'd already seen her confusion, so she sighed and stopped again.

"Only once, for maybe fifteen minutes," she admitted, wincing in self-disgust. "We've both been so busy lately." In fact, now that she thought about it, all they'd talked about had been Han. Ever since Bespin she'd been vowing to herself that she'd sit Luke down and have a good long discussion with him about _his _problems, and instead here she was, still leaning on him like a sort of emotional crutch. She shoved the next datapad into a random shelf with frustrated force.

Han nodded and looked to his boots. "I'm worried about him."

"Ah." Leia gave up on the shelf and stepped to the bunk to sit down beside him. For a moment she sat still, hands in her lap, considering. "I know what you mean," she said at last. "I've been worried for quite a while too…Yet…" She pushed a stray strand of hair from her face.

"Yet what?" Han took her hand and started to play with her fingers.

Leia considered her answer. "Something happened to Luke at Bespin," she finally stated. "Something more profound than losing his hand. I asked him about his hand some time ago, how he felt about it. He looked almost surprised and told me that he'd actually stopped thinking of it as a prosthetic. I don't think it ever bothered him that much. For stars' sake, he hadn't had the replacement for a week before he and Hobbie were regaling the whole mess with all the benefits of prosthetics."

Han's face lit up in a wicked grin. "Heard 'em at it the other day. Hobbie mentioned he's planning to upgrade his with a vibrator function – " He broke off at Leia's disapproving glare and sobered with considerable effort. "Uhm, yeah… Well. But joking can hide a lot."

"True." Leia let the detour pass and instead watched Han's fingers playing with her own. "But Han, I know Luke. Ever since he set foot in the Alliance he's been prepared to pay the price. He's lived with danger for so long already. None of us really believe we will come out of this without scars, do we?"

Han blinked. He had never thought of himself as anything but untouchable. Or Chewie. Or Luke. Or _Leia_. His grip on her hand tightened.

At least, he corrected himself, he never had before Bespin. That blast of freezing carbonite had felt almost like becoming… impotent. For a moment Han felt a cold shiver down his spine, then he dismissed it as completely devoid of any anchor in reality. He loosened his grip on Leia's hand and went back determinedly to teasing her fingers. "So, what's bothering him then?"

"I don't know," Leia sighed. "And he won't tell. Whatever it is, he isn't ready to talk about it yet."

"So we should let him handle it all by himself?" Han growled, his hands coming up in a frustrated gesture. "What if he can't?"

Leia raised her eyebrows, Han's worry, so uncharacteristically obvious, both touched and amused her. "I thought you manly spacefaring men didn't even _have _feelings. Why are you all suddenly so worried Luke won't be able to handle his?" She tucked her foot up, making herself comfortable on the bunk.

Han harrumphed. "Well, that's exactly it. This is _Luke_ we're talking about." Han threw his arms out in a helpless gesture. "Look, I don't know, ok? I don't care what all those crazy old Jedi wizards are teaching him, he hasn't been off the farm _that _long!"

A smile played the corners of Leia's mouth. "You'll make a fine dad one day, Han Solo."

"I… huh? What! No, I…" But Leia reached up to kiss him and that silenced his protests. Then she tugged him down next her and for a considerable amount of time Luke Skywalker was precisely the last topic in the galaxy Han cared to think about. In fact, it was probably hours before he turned on the bunk and brought the matter up again, just in case. "You seriously think we should let the kid be for the moment then? Solve his own problems unless he comes to us?"

Leia bit her lip as she pillowed her head on Han's shoulder. "I think that if we start giving him advice about anything, it had better be some damned good advice, and I for one fail to see how I could give him anything of the kind."

Han craned his neck to take a good look at Leia, who was well buried in his armpit. "You're thinking of her, huh? That redhead fox?"

Leia stiffened. "I mean Shira Brie," she corrected him, "and I'd call her a _bicce_rather than a fox."

"Hnh?" Han jumped, for he had never in his wildest fantasies thought that Leia would know such a word in Huttese. They lay silent for a while before he finally could make himself ask the fatal question. "So, uh...why don't you like her?"

It was like removing the stopper from a bottle, or saying 'dinner is ready' to a party of Wookiees. "Firstly, because she is mean. She really is. She's pretending to be _so _nice towards everybody and she can really pull that role off, but if she doesn't like someone she can be mean in such a sneaky, devious way! And I've been putting up with it so far because of Luke, I've even tried to make myself _like_ her! But she's been driving in wedges between us all these months while you were away. Once she offered to go after Luke on a mission he was on, and when I declined and regretted, saying I knew it would be a pleasure for her, she retorted that it would indeed, _almost_ as much as for him. And just after we got back to the Fleet, same night in fact, she told me my hair was straight and that I looked tired."

"Uhh…" Han blinked several times. "Now, Leia, it's no sin looking tired- and your hair _is, _um, pretty straight - sort of - but that doesn't make it any less lovely – "

Leia sat right up, almost spitting. "There we go! Now she's driving a wedge between us as well!"

"What? How?" When Leia's only answer was an angry glare he tried, "Are you sure you're not over-reacting?"

Leia bounced to her feet and fiercely started to pull her clothes on. "Yes, Han! I'm sure! I'm absolutely sure by now! It's not what she says or does but _how_ she's saying and doing it. And I'm sick and tired of it! And I'm not taking it anymore!"

With that, she stormed out of the room, leaving Han in the bed wondering if he should tell Luke what might happen if he ever allowed himself to fall for Shira Brie – or whether the kid already knew.

. . .

The corridors on the way to the conference room were a surreal blur, but Luke's dreams from last night still stirred vivid in his memory. The pain emanating from Vader in his dream was still clinging to him when he woke in the morning, like the sheet he'd been soaked in. Was it really possible that it had been Vader's pain, really _his_ pain? Despite a desperate urge to deny any feelings, any humanity in his adversary, Luke couldn't; he knew the dream had been his repressed memories replaying, bringing up feelings that had radiated from Vader that day in Bespin, feelings he'd been too busy to differentiate in the actual moment. And those feelings were shouting one thing in Luke's ears, again and again and again until he had to admit the truth: the Dark Lord did have a heart.

He was able to feel pain, moreover – Luke himself was actually the cause of it! The thought was mind-blowing, overwhelming, unfathomable… And it had one, unequivocal deduction; Vader was human! In all the months that had followed, Luke had desperately denied that comprehension, fearful that following one set of tracks would lead to the nexu's den. And as the recognition sank in he knew, with a swoop in the stomach, that this would indeed be the case. He might not draw the next conclusion yet, but he would soon, the chain of facts impossible to ignore in the end…

Room number 6771 emerged before him and Luke stopped sharply, bringing himself out of the murk of his mental swamp. He took a few calming breaths to make sure he was back in the present – he was about to brief his strike team about their assignment and could afford no distractions.

He was punctual but his crew had beaten him anyway. A barrage of expectant smiles and collected expressions met him halfway through the door. He glanced about. This was entirely uncharacteristic. Pilots usually only made a point of being on time when the battle alarms were blaring. Clearly he'd managed to make the significance of this mission clear to his team. "Well…"

Shira flashed a confident smile. "Fire off, Ace." Thorben nodded and Alph grinned. Luke smiled too, realizing he'd managed to get a top team despite his first doubts. He, placed his datapad on front of him but didn't turn it in on yet.

"All right," he began. "Our mission is labelled _Operation Sheep Skin_ and our objective is to steal a _Lambda_-class shuttle. We have intelligence that such a shuttle will arrive in sixteen days time at a small Imperial base on the fifth planet in orbit of the Thenax system – where we're we'll be waiting."

"No kidding?" Shiras' eyes widened in mock surprise. "Intelligence actually _found_ a Lamba-shuttle that we could steal? It's only, what, the third most common small groups transport used by the Empire? Why can't we just sneak onboard the nearest Star Destroyer and snatch one?"

"The _most_ common small groups transport, actually," Luke replied dryly. "And the reason we can't sneak onboard the nearest Star Destroyer is that in that case we would need other Imperial transports just in order to come onboard. We also need uniforms, ID's, clearance codes, covers; all stuff that's now being prepared. Plus we'd find ourselves in serious trouble the moment we want to leave since a SD can outrun a _lambda_ without trying."

Thorben snorted. "Hell, I've known escape pods that could outrun a _lambda_."

"In contrast," Luke said loudly over Alph's snickers, "the Lancer-class frigate that Captain Kraeft will use when he'll be travelling to the Thenax system can't."

"Ok, ok, I get the point." Shira rolled her eyes. "But admit that the way you laid it out invited to make fun."

"Duly admitted," Luke smiled, as usual pulled in by Shira's high spirits. "Happy now?"

"Very. And I promise to keep my mouth shut now. Let's hear the plan."

"Right," Luke began again, activating his datapad. "Let's hope you're all still laughing when I'm through drilling you on the specifics..."

. . .

With an surge of foreboding, almost like was she about to alert Darth Vader in the middle of his night cycle, Mara lifted her hand and buzzed on Deena's doorcom.

But it wasn't the Dark Lord's grim metal jaw that launched on her but Deena's broad grinning tooth-set. "Hi! Welcome! Wonderful that you could come!"

Mara forced a smile and slipped inside before she lost her nerve. It was a two-man cabin, narrow and sparcely furnished, but after so long in a four-man cabin it appeared to Mara as spacious as Imperial Palace. Two candles were lit on the small table and a pot of Kosh stood steaming in the middle, along with cups, plates and something food-like. The latter only increased Mara's premonitions.

"I'm so glad you could come!" Deena chirped. "It's so much more cozy to meet like this! I've arranged some food too – specialities from Etti – I hope you like them!" She let out a small giggle. "I'm sure you're surprised that I care for anything back home but that stuff is actually the only thing I miss. Come, have a seat!" She bumped down and started to pour tea in the cups without further delay.

Mara sat down gingerly and tried to scrutinize the food without being too obvious. "Yes… Well, this is nice," she groped. "Candles and all."

"Yeah, I actually had them in my bag, I completely forgot," Deena giggled again. "I packed them last time Corin and I were on leave together 'cos I wanted us to have a romantic dinner somewhere but we never got to use them. We seldom do but I pack them anyways. Corin says I'm silly but I bet he'd be disappointed if I didn't." She winked.

Girl talk. This was what no Imperial Special Operations training program in the galaxy could teach. In the Rebellion females were influential, so she'd be stupid not to snatch the chance now that she had someone willing to pass as her friend. It occurred to her that she'd never had a friend before. Not that she and Deena were "real" friends, of course. But she had to admit it was about as close as she'd ever come.

More importantly, Deena was the perfect path to Skywalker. The man had introduced them himself and by playing along, Mara would have gained his trust at some basic level without even approaching him. She'd been forcing down meals with Shan in the main mess for a week now and this was the logical next step. Kreth, she hated logic!

She glanced about the cabin. "Where's your room-mate?"

"On duty. She's nice but she hardly speaks." Deena shrugged. "Very reserved. And here I was thinking Besalisks were sociable."

Mara opened her mouth to reply, then bit her tongue, then remembered how lightly Deena always took her blatant insults and said it anyway. "Maybe you don't give her airspace?"

Deena's eyes widened. "Wow. I hadn't thought about that!" She took a sip of the hot tea. "Hey, have something to eat!" Pushing the plate with food towards Mara, she continued, eyebrows furrowing, "That's very likely, you know. I talk a lot, at least Corin always says I do. And I can also be very straightforward, which make many people uncertain of themselves. It's not that I've always been like that; when I was younger I was pretty uncertain of myself, belive it or not, but I just hid it behind a tough mask and pushed myself anyway. Back when I met Luke I know he was pretty unnerved by me sometimes, but that's of course typical for him, he's so sweet." She giggled again but her face flashed back to seriousness. "Do you think I talk a lot?"

For a moment Mara was surprised – none of her sarcasm had previously intimidated Deena in the slightest. But she couldn't make herself lie, not in this case anyway. "Yes," she admitted as she willed herself to take some of the suspicious looking edibles onto her plate.

"Oh. There we go." Deena grimaced. "I bet I do, don't I? Well. Hey, you have to know what you're eating. That bread lump is kalukko; tiny smoked fish baked in a nutri-rye dough – eat it with butter," she pushed the butter towards Mara, "and that's salted, sundried redroot in nossnut pickle. I buy this stuff every time I have the chance – that's not too often – and then I carry it with me as long as the supply lasts."

Mara tasted and chewed carefully. "It's… nice," she managed, quickly deciding that her honest opinion would be too rude even for Deena. "Um, are they served together on Etti too?"

"Etti Four," Deena corrected her absentmindedly. "No, they wouldn't be, I suppose, but since it's the only stuff from home that I can buy, I've started to serve them together and so far everybody has loved it. Except Corin, of course, but he doesn't like fish anyway."

Mara swallowed the kalukko and added a generous spoon of butter to her next piece. She wondered silently whether Deena had served this to Skywalker and Solo. The thought brought a smile to her lips. Aloud she said, "You said you used to unnerve Sk… Luke? When was that?"

"Oh, that was years ago, when we first met and both were pretty new here. I was drunk and… well, made _suggestions_." She grinned suggestingly and winked. "He was terrified! But some time later I helped him in a mess he'd gotten himself into and after that it went better."

"I suppose…" Mara stirred her Kosh, wondering how large crumbs she could allow herself to leave on her plate. "Hm, what kind of a mess was it that…Wait, _what_ went better?"

In answer, Deena only took a sip from her cup, bobbing her eyebrows over it. Mara stared at her. Then the realization hit her from absolutely nowhere. "You've bedded him!"

Deena started to laugh. "Well, that's a way to put it, yeah. I was his first, to be precise." She lifted her chin almost proudly. "It took some work too. Luke's so darned shy when it comes to matters like that, but finally I got him to understand that I wasn't after him because he was the Hero from Yavin but because I _liked_ him! We'd been through some adventures together already and he had been so sweet to me all the time when I was feeling like a nobody so I though I should sort of repay him – after all it was near a scandal that a hero like him could go on being a virgin, just think if it had come out! – so one evening I simply put myself in a situation where he couldn't say no."

Mara forgot to chew but listened in morbid fascination as Deena continued. "Well, afterwards, he was a bit repentant I think, but he agreed that it had been nice and he was glad it had been with a friend and all. We met a couple of times after that but then he went on one of those his missions again and when he came back he told me he told me he just couldn't handle both the Rebellion and a relationship. So I said it was ok and we've been really great friends ever since - well, actually we were that already before - I don't think he'd have slept with me otherwise." Deena finally shut up and took a piece of kalukko, chewing pensively.

She continued before Mara could find a proper comment. "Actually, I never bought what he said to me. The simple reason why he broke up with me was that he wasn't in love with me, it's as simple as that." She shrugged. "That's Luke in a nutshell, he's so conscientious, always trying to do the right thing, and always so worried to hurt anyone in the way."

Mara found herself both repelled and utterly fascinated by Deena's revelation. A thousand questions burned on the tip of her tongue but she couldn't make herself ask a single one of them, so titillated and prying did they seem to her. No, she had to find something that actually could be of use to her – and Skywalker's accomplishments as a lover surely weren't _that_.

"You're saying that he always wants to do the right thing," she repeated, "and also that he's worried about hurting anyone in the process. Doesn't that hinder his ability to act? I mean – he's a pilot – you don't get much time to hesitate up there when enemy fighters are shooting at you."

"No, that's true…" Deena frowned, obviously puzzled by the dilemma and just as obviously never having thought of it before. "You, know, the fun thing is that I've never seen him hesitate in a hot place. Never heard about it either. When things start happening, then he just acts – and somehow always right, it seems. I dunno why." She shrugged. "Maybe it's those Jedi instincts of his."

Mara heaved a mental sigh of relief at having directed the topic to safer territory. More lucrative territory, too. Skywalker's conscience might be his biggest weakness - but it was one she obviously should be wary of exploiting. In a tight situation he might turn on a coin and become a potent adversary. That fitted with their verbal sparring too; mostly he'd been defensive or back-stepping but occasionally and quite randomly he'd shown himself able to step out with a verbal charge or an action that made her lose ground completely – like those times he had just carried her away. It was an intriguing contradiction, but obviously a key to his character. Mara dared to plunge a little deeper. "Speaking about Jedi, that puzzles me a little."

Deena frowned, something about her changing to weary. "Yeah? You're not one of _those_, are you?"

_Kreth!_ Mara could have slapped herself. She should have known Deena wasn't as dumb as she seemed! She shouldn't have pried so obviously for useful information but let the discussion drift more - if Deena suspected even for a second… Then she realized the blonde girl had said, "those" not "them." "Those who?" she asked.

"The ones who look askance at Jedi. Who think they're not to be trusted. I've heard the whispering in the corners." Deena's voice was clipped now. "I'm pretty amazed, you know. Aboard _Liberty_ - and every other Rebel ship or base I've been to, no one, and I mean no one, is in doubt that Luke's the best thing that happened to the galaxy and that everything changed that day he set his foot into an X-wing fighter for the first time. But here – _here_ where he's actually living and working – here you have that scum of people murmuring and muttering! It's a disgrace!" She leaned back, scowling over stoutly crossed arms.

Mara had caught that muttering too, of course, but she was pretty certain it was low-voiced, never uttered in the company of officers or even pilots. And she had honestly not paid it much attention. Used as she was to anti-Jedi sentiments she had merely registered that it existed here too – which was of course an inexcusable lapse from her side. She frowned, taking in Deena. The blonde's open face was guarded now and Mara could sense her wounded feelings, hurt on Skywalker's behalf. Whatever could be said against Deena, she was at least a loyal friend. "Yeah, I've heard those voices too," she admitted.

"Do you agree?" Deena demanded.

"Agree on what? That Jedi are not to be trusted? You know, I have really no idea." Mara shrugged. "I've never met one before I met Skywalker. I've heard a lot, of course, but that covers claims about everything from them being half-gods to super-villains so that's not much help. But I think _Skywalker_ is well… loyal. Trustworthy." She shrugged again, discomforted by her own words. "I think it's like you said; that he's honestly trying to do what he thinks is right, and to hurt as few as possible in the process."

Deena fixed her sharply for a moment still, then relaxed visibly. "Yeah. OK." She glanced away, then back, more remorseful. "Sorry. I didn't mean to… I just…"

"It's fine, " Mara assured, surprised how well she understood the other girl, and how much her protective reaction had lifted Mara's opinion of her. "He's your friend."

"Yeah." Deena frowned. "But you… You don't think of him as a friend?"

"Can't say I know him well enough. He's been nice to me, though." Mara took a piece of cold kalukko and chewed with well-concealed difficulty, letting the cloud drift over before she tried to re-direct the discussion where she wanted it again. "But what surprises me is his… well, his own handling of that Jedi-thing. I mean, if no one told me and I hadn't seen some of it for myself I would never notice. He acts and dresses just like anyone."

Deena had followed Mara's example and re-tackled the food, but with strikingly greater relish. "That's what would you have him do? Start wearing robes and actually _look_ like a Jedi? Wouldn't that be a tad too... well, strange?" She meticulously wiped the pickle from the plate with her breadlump.

Mara shrugged. "Maybe that's what he thinks too. But to me it sends conflicting feelings. If he'd choose to be and act like a Jedi, the he would at least confront people with it properly. As it is now, people are only guessing. And that's water of the rumor-mills."

Deena's hand stopped halfway to her mouth and her eyes flashed again. "Are you saying all that tattle is Luke's _own_ fault?"

"No," Mara told her, "but I don't think his way of handling it makes it better either. But what puzzles me is still _why _he's acting like he does. Why doesn't he take pride in his abilities?"

"Ah." Deena calmed down and chewed at the question together with her breadlump. "Well, maybe he's afraid to seem too strange? Luke's sort of a little shy, you know. Still, he used to more outgoing earlier; he's holed up since I met him last." Mara pricked up her ears. "He… I don't know. He knows more Jedi stuff, he can _do_ more - at least Wedge says he can, and he would know. Luke changed after Hoth, I think."

And was that due to losing his hand? Or his encounter with Vader? Or something else entirely? Mara's brain ran overspeed. "Changed? How?" _she pushed_.

Fortunately Deena was far too eager to talk about their mutual acquaintance herself to wonder about Mara's interest. "I… he was away for a long time. Weeks. And then he came back with Leia & Chewie – and that charming guy, Lando. So I've heard, at least. And after that he was different. Troubled. And he doesn't talk about it." She rested her chin in her hand, thoughtful. "I wonder how good being a Jedi is for him. Or for anyone. I mean, if he was somewhere getting training…" she trailed off.

"Training?" Mara echoed. "Where could he get training? I thought all Jedi were dead?"

"Yeah, well. They're supposed to be. But that first teacher of Luke's – Ben Kenobi I think his name was – he survived in some hole too – why wouldn't someone else have managed the same trick? Maybe Luke found him?"

"But how? The Empire's been chasing Jedi for two decades now."

Deena shrugged. "Well, if you want to be found you'd leave a trace to the right person, wouldn't you? After all, Luke's a bit of a celebrity theres days. Maybe even some exiled Jedi Master would have heard the rumors, I wouldn't be surprised. Anyway that's the only explanation _I _can come up with."

And far-out though it sounded, it was a good one too, Mara realized. Looked like she hadn't only misjudged Skywalker but Deena latter annoyed her less, though. In fact, it didn't annoy her at all, but made her existence here easier. She smiled genuinely for maybe the first time in the past weeks. "Yes. That doesn't sound too far fetched."

. . .

"…for ages. He's the best agent we've ever had." Wedge was keeping his voice low, though no one was close. "We can't afford to lose him."

"What puzzles me is that they've kept him alive this long," Luke countered. They were trotting down the corridor towards Deena's cabin. She was the last one to be requested for Wedge's team and he had agreed to join his friend in asking her, since he knew Deena much better after all. "As little as I want to think about it, they _must_ have pressed all available information out of him by now."

Wedge shrugged. "Some people have an amazing ability to resist. Think of Leia when she was on the Death Star – she never gave our location away."

Luke, who was one of the few who at least knew a little, felt the familiar nausea whenever he thought about Leia in the clutches of the Empire – the Empire and his possible father! – "She's the one who's underlined to me that _nobody_ can resist interrogation for long."

Wedge cringed. "Ouch. Ok, I didn't want to hear that. Sorry. You probably didn't want the reminded either." He stopped outside Deena's cabin.

"No," Luke admitted, stopping too. "All right. Ready? Remember, it's not your fault you can't tell her a thing about what she's going to get herself into if she says yes. It's only your job to make her accept."

Wedge focused on the door. "Yeah. And she's just a soldier, volunteering at the moment she set her foot into this Alliance. Just like us other whackos. Not anyone special at all."

"Right. Just like us others." Luke took a deep breath, cleaning his head from doubts. What had to be done, had to be done. And Deena was the best for this operation he could think of. He buzzed the doorcom.

They could heard Deena's "Come in!" and the hatch slid open. But it was the redhead inside that both men stared at, not the blonde. "Jade?" Wedge exclaimed. "Didn't expect to find you here."

Mara lifted an eyebrow, aware she hadn't been introduced to the hotshot pilot at any point but even more aware that her presence here was somehow an unforeseen obstacle to him. "Really?"

Wedge stopped dead at her flat reply and Luke had to hurry to help. "Hi. Uh, sorry we interrupted. We were… on our way to the Chaos and thought you might want to join?" Wedge gave him a sideways glance. They had _not _planned to go to the Chaos even afterwards, but most of Rogue Squadron was most likely gathered in the bar at this hour, a fact at which Luke had obviously snatched to cover their butts. "You could both come?" Luke suggested.

Mara glared suspiciously at him. She had never seen Skywalker this cheery and it was obvious that it was a fake he put up to cover something else entirely. Deena however, sucked it straight up. "The Chaos?" she beamed. "I'd love to!" Then she remembered her company and shot Mara an apologetic look. "I mean, if you want to, that is – "

Mara shrugged. "Sure. Why not?" It was a great chance to see a more private side of the Jedi. And maybe she'd be able to figure out the reason for this show if she came along.

Deena bounced to her feet. "Astral!" She threw a glance into the mirror and her grin disappeared like parts from a crashed podracer into Jawa sandcrawler. Her hand went to her hair. "Uh, just give me a sec…"

Luke smiled patiently. "You look great, Dee."

"Yeah. Always," Wedge agreed. "But hey, maybe I could help you choose another dress or something?" He nodded at Luke and Mara. "Why don't you two go ahead? We'll catch up."

Mara rose her eyebrows and Luke winced. Wedge was an amazing friend and the best pilot he'd ever met – but his subtlety left a great deal to be desired.

Wedge growled, "Ok, ok. I have something I need to talk with Deena about, so why don't you two just bugger off?"

"Something to talk about?" Luke repeated innocently, trying to pick up the pieces. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it's about your birthday party, moron," Wedge barked. "Now, bugger off!"

Luke looked at Mara who shrugged and followed him out of the cabin. When the hatch had closed behind them she gave him a wry glance. "I suppose we weren't supposed to know what _that_ was about."

"Could seem that way," Luke replied, retaining his sabacc-face. "Well, I'm not going to dig deeper."

"Me neither," Mara agreed. She waited a moment for them to start walking down the corridor, then added casually, "But if Deena doesn't tell me all of it tomorrow at the very latest, then I know it's something classified."

She had the great satisfaction to see him shrink for long seconds before they continued down the passageway.

T.B.C.


	13. Chapter 13

Again I manged to post inside two weeks - and I allow myself to be a bit proud of that LOL - I hade to throw these last two chapters into the air and rewrite them completely. I hope the tempo is ok for you readers, if I make it faster there will be a big pause at some point. Hope you enjoy and please don't forget to review - it's the fuel that keeps me going, and there's so much to tell in this story yet ;-)

And as always: HOORAY to amazing frodogenic - the best beta reader in this galaxy!

* * *

**Quagmire – Chapter 13 **

**An Evening in Chaos**

Despite Wedge's blundering, Luke's mood lightened as he headed for the Chaos with Mara Jade. Wedge had his team ready now – Deena was as likely to turn down danger and excitement as Chewie was to resist a juicy bantha steak – and his own mission looked promising too. And as soon as he'd finished it he'd be able to return to Yoda – that was not even twenty days away. Twenty days was a long time of course, but at least it was a deadline. And Luke had already promised himself that this would be the final mission he'd accept before Dagobah. He decided to push his problems aside for tonight – when had he last been to the bar with his friends?

Of course, one of his problems was presently walking next to him. She had a strange way of cropping up everywhere he moved these days – or was it just that he couldn't stay away? The past few weeks had taught him that getting a friendly conversation out of Mara was harder than cracking a smile from a stormtrooper, and he was nothing if not a sucker for attempting impossible feats, wasn't he? He searched determinedly for a good topic but Mara stunned him by seizing the initiative herself. "So, we're going to the Chaos, right?" she asked, voice surprisingly devoid of sarcasm. "If I recall correctly, that's the smallest of the mess halls. Why is it called the Chaos?"

Luke gave her a quick glance, searching for hidden gibes, but either Mara was in a good mood or she had finally started to soften up._ Whoa! _"Well, you know the Mess, don't you?"

"I suppose you mean Mess Hall One?"

"Yes - that's Big Mess. Then there's Small Mess – that's mess hall two since it's slightly smaller. The third is called Bad Mess – I don't think it's due to the food 'cause that's about as bad everywhere - and then there's Chaos which also functions as a bar in the evening cycle. So to answer your actual question I have no idea. Probably some drunk pilot's idea of humor."

Her mouth twitched. "I suppose."

Luke glanced at her again, incredulous but pleased. He'd better take advantage of her good mood while it lasted. "So, how are you settling in?" he asked. "Seems like you and Deena are getting along pretty well?"

Mara considered her answer a moment. "I guess we do," she allowed finally. "She's…" she paused, searching for a proper word.

"Sweet?" Luke suggested, not able to hold back a smile.

Mara blinked. "Yes. Sweet. Well meaning." She broke off, as if surprised at the realization. Then she added a bit wryly, "She talks a lot, though."

"That she does," Luke agreed readily, his eyes on the passageway. Deena and Mara Jade. Two women he couldn't help feeling responsible for, two women who couldn't have been less alike but two women who were winding up in cahoots nonetheless. For some reason, this pleased him to no end. Of course Mara was grumping and balking about it, but he wasn't buying that anymore.

He glanced at her secretly. She was seriously attractive, no denying it, but the subconscious pride and general derision that she radiated made her all but approachable. Under both those layers, though, there was some deeper quality of her personality that affected him, tickled his curiosity. He was pretty damned sure that the slight awkwardness he sensed from her was reluctance to admit she actually liked Deena – and that brought a smile to his lips. Once, Han had been the same – wary, reluctant and seclusive – Mara was of the same stock. Give it time and they'd get the Jade out of Mara just like they'd gotten the Solo out of Han. She'd turn out to be… Luke didn't quite know what she'd turn out to be, but he knew he genuinely looked forward to seeing what it was.

As they entered the Chaos, Luke spotted Shira almost instantly, standing by the table where several Rogues were seated. He felt a quick jab of excitement, followed by a stab of guilt as he realized he was not only showing up at the bar for the first time in ages but also showing up with another gorgeous redhead. Like she could sense his presence, Shira turned her head and for an eye blink she seemed to stiffen. But it lasted only the fraction of a second; the next, she waved, already beaming towards them. "Hi there, Ace!" she crowed. "What a nice surprise. Here we've been wagering for ages that you didn't even know this place existed. And I see you've found a replacement for Wedge."

"And a much more agreeable alternative it is," Hobbie jumped in, eyes and impish grin on Mara. "I hope the switch is permanent?"

Luke shook his head, smiling. "Tough luck, Hobs – Wedge will be here in a minute." He thanked the Force for the unfailingly good mood of his squadron mates – and to his relief, Shira seemed as ready to welcome Mara as anyone else. He chided himself for always underestimating her.

"Oh, I can live with that," Hobbie assured, "if she stays! Hi, I'm Hobbie Klivian." He reached an eager hand towards Mara.

"And I'm Wes!" Wes Jansen exclaimed, thrusting himself out over the table and almost spilling the drinks on it in the process. "Don't mind Hobbie, he's a bore. If you want to have fun, baby – then here's your man!" He thumbed his chest and flashed a broad smile.

Mara looked at Luke, ignoring the outstretched hands. "Are they always like that?"

"Most of the time, I'm afraid." Luke gave her a wry grin.

Shira smiled and gave Mara's shoulder a comforting pat. "Don't worry, dear. They get easier to handle in time."

"Really?" Mara slid down on the bench, ordering her irritation into hiding. Like she needed advice from anyone on how to handle _men_ of all things –

"Oh yes, and when you know _all_ about them they're a piece of ryshcate." Shira winked.

"Ah." Mara finally caught the wicked glance. "That take long?"

"Oh, maybe ten minutes in Janson's case," Shira said airily. The other pilots snickered and spent the next several seconds snubbing Janson, who took it like a man while downing his beer.

Luke glanced at the other's filled mugs. "Um, can I get you something, Mara?"

"Sure." Mara dug through her pocket for a few credits and tossed them over. "A glass of wine, please."

Luke caught the credits midair, wondered for a second if he should insist on it being his treat, but decided not to and started towards the bar.

Mara took casual stock of the assorted pilots one by one and came to a stop at Brie, still standing by the table. The air of the other woman was impenetrable, but she smiled amicably and offered her hand. "Welcome. I'm Shira. I used to fly with this mob," she gestured with her thumb, "before I got my own squad some weeks ago."

"Traitor," Klivian accused.

"Climber," Wes agreed.

"Boot-licker," a third pilot snickered, not bothering to hold his stone face and sending the rest into an avalanche of snickers and hoots.

"That's Tycho," Shira continued towards Mara, "and this is Alph and Thorben." She nodded towards the two last occupants at the table; a dark-skinned man and a middle-aged character with receding hair line. Both nodded politely.

Skywalker returned, a bit sheepish looking. "Uh, your wine, Mara… Would you like red, ruby, white, emerald, purple... or um, berry wine. Or would you prefer something spiced?"

Mara sighed. "Just get me something darker than pink." Obviously the Jedi was no connoisseur.

He blinked. "Red? Or ruby?"

"Whatever." Mara shrugged. "And I don't care from what planet it comes from either – I simply choose to trust your mess chef has a decent selection."

"Whoa!" Wes commented as Luke headed back towards the bar. "That's some confidence you have in the mess chef. And definitely more than he deserves."

"Hush, remember, he's here tonight!" Alph shushed, glancing around him.

"Bah! He's at the bar anyway. Besides, this isn't a secret." Wes continued, directing his words to Mara. "Old Ollie's obstinately proud of his establishment. He insists that it hasn't lost quality since the glorious days when _Home One_ was a deep space exploration vessel, but I think it's _commonly_ agreed that the golden days are over. Where have _you_ been eating, Red?"

"Same place as anyone else," Mara replied dryly. "But I reserve my fine feelings for smart restaurants, not warship cantinas. Here I eat what I get served."

Her comment sent chuckles round the table but Wes shook his head, unruffled. "That's easy for you to say. But I'll tell you that if you'd taken a few evasive maneuvers in an X-Wing, a hoard of TIE's firing at you from all directions and your breakfast is threatening to come up the fifth time the same morning, then your perspective would be somewhat different. Then it suddenly becomes _important_ what you've stuffed into you stomach a few hours earlier!"

Shira grinned wickedly. "You guys realize this is actually coming form Wes Jansen, the guy who ate beetle stew and mistook it for nerf! That where you got this ambition to become a gourmet, Wes?"

Out of the corner of her eye Mara noted Wedge Antilles and Deena emerge at the entrance. Antilles looked around, spotted their table and set course towards it, Deena following on his heels.

"Please, Wes," Tycho deadpanned. "Don't tell me you can't hold on to your breakfast. That's a disgrace to the whole wing. We'll have to transfer you to another squadron."

"Hear, hear," Hobbie agreed. "A Rogue has a stomach of stone. Wes out!" Mara, one eye still on Deena, saw her break away from Antilles and head towards the bar instead. Something told her the blonde girl was aiming for Skywalker.

"Does that mean I can have him for the Reds?" Shira put in but Wes wasn't yielding yet.

"Hey, _hey_! I said _threatening_ to come up, ok? Meaning, it's merely the taste that returns. I can hold my food."

"Yeah, but you can't hold your liquor."

"Oh Hobbie, that was a low one," Thorben grinned. To Mara he explained, "On his last birthday Wes was stupid enough to challenge Chewbacca into a drinking contest – and, well - if we call the consequences 'disastrous,' I think that covers it pretty well."

But Wes wasn't put out yet. "I just follow the lead." He nodded towards Luke at the bar. "He can't hold his liquor either."

Hobbie's eyebrows went up. "Are you telling me you've actually _seen_ him drink?"

"Well, not since the Death Star went down – but he was definitely drunk then!"

"Who was drunk?" Wedge Antilles appeared behind them, causing both quarreling pilots to jump since they'd been sitting back towards the door.

Shira gestured with her thumb. "Luke, apparently– after the Death Star."

Wedge gave Wes and Hobbie a superior glance. "What would you know. You weren't even there. You were in the med bay, both of you." Grabbing a chair from another table he squeezed himself a place around the table.

"You've told me so yourself! Besides – "

"Who's that blonde he's hugging?" Alph broke in and everybody turned their attention towards the bar. Mara caught her breath. Skywalker and Deena indeed looked pretty intimate. Deena was holding the Jedi's head between her hands, beaming from ear to ear while Skywalker seemed more concerned not to spill the drinks he was holding. He didn't seem too comfortable by her attention but Mara was far from sure everybody paid attention to this point. Her eyes darted to Brie's perfect sabacc face. She wasn't the only one worrying about Brie's reaction; both Thorben and Wedge threw her discreet glances too. Even at other tables people seemed to react; through the Force, Mara sensed a boost of indignation. Obviously Brie's campaign for Skywalker's affections was a popular local cause. What the blazes were those two _doing_ at the bar? Mara hurried to amplify her hearing with the Force.

"…so sweet! You've always believed in me! And I won't let you down, I promise!" she heard from Deena.

"I know you won't!" Skywalker assured. He fidgeted with his mugs but bent down and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Ah, yeah. That's Deena," Wedge tried to soothe. "She's a good old friend of Luke's…"

"Obviously," Hobbie grinned.

"… going back nearly to Yavin," Wedge continued, his voice a tad sharper. "She's been on _Liberty _the past three years. She got engaged a short time ago."

Mara watched as Skywalker handed the cups to Deena and turned back towards the bar. Deena looked searchingly around and broke into a sunny smile when her eyes fell on Mara and Wedge. She started towards them, obviously not aware of the curious glances that followed her.

Mara, on her hand, was only too aware of them. Something in the room had been stirred, something she didn't like – but she didn't catch more before Deena crashed their table, all smiles and shining eyes. "Hi Wedge! Hi Mara! Wes! How good to see you! And Hobbie! Wow! I can't believe I'm here with you guys again! Mara, here's your wine..."

She handed a mug over - apparently even wine was served in mugs here, Mara noted caustically – but nearly spilled it as Wes pulled her in for a hug. "Well, we're here every evening. Why haven't you showed up?" he complained good-naturedly.

"I've been thinking about it," Deena giggled, "But I'm too shy. I didn't think you guys would remember me anymore. Luke and Wedge had to beg me to come." She slipped onto Wes' lap and from there wriggled herself further in on the bench. Tugging her legs after her she waved smilingly at the others present. "Hi all! I'm Deena."

"Welcome, Deena. Nice to meet you," Brie greeted. Her expression was a study in approachability and as Mara reached out with the Force she could detect nothing. _Nothing?_

Deena reached out her hand, beaming. "Hi! Nice to meet you too. Wow! You're a pilot too! That's so cool! There are so many girls who fly now. I'm so glad; back when I joined most fighter pilots were men."

Brie smiled, genuinely it seemed. "It's still like that, but we're a few girls who are holding our own. Many in my own squad are girls, we're at that table in the corner." She nodded and pointed with her mug. "You can come over if you like to, I'd be happy to introduce you. Cheers."

"Cheers! Thanks! Wow, your very own squad!" Deena took a generous sip of her beer.

"Careful there, Dee," Skywalker warned, returning from the bar with a mug of his own. "It's stronger than it tastes." He sat down on the bench, which happened to be next to Mara. She moved to give him place.

"Yeah, be careful. It tastes like rancor pee but it's strong," Wes echoed, wriggling a finger.

"So's a rancor," Shira pointed out.

"Ok, ok, it tastes like… like Hoojiib pee," Wes adapted, "But it still hits like hell." He glanced up at her. "Why are you standing up like that? It makes me nervous."

The redhead grinned. "I make you nervous? You? Wes Jansen?"

"Yeah, you do. Sit down like normal people."

Shira shrugged. "All right, for a while then. I'll have to go back to my own squad soon but…" She slipped down on the bench beside Skywalker and Mara moved further in on the now crowded bench and wondered silently how long that had been Brie's reason to delay.

"Good skies!" Hobbie drawled. "Look at Luke! Entirely surrounded by redheads! Is this your lucky day or what?"

Skywalker scowled. "Knock it off, Hobbie!" Mara suddenly remembered that the Jedi had carried her not less than three times and for some reason that sent a jolt through her. She wondered whether he'd been thinking about the same thing? And what would Brie say if she knew?

She retained her stony expression but Shira picked up the bait. "Oh, I never realized you had a thing for red hair, Luke. Or is it Hobbie that _thinks_ you has a weakness there?" She winked and let her hand brush flippantly through her bobbed, maroon mane, leaning back in her chair with that knowing, self-assured smile that seemed to be her trade mark. Mara didn't know why but she had an almost itching desire to wipe that smile from the corners of that well formed mouth.

"I've heard rumors too," Wes put in.

Luke waved deprecatingly. "No, really, I..."

Hobbie leaned comfortably back into his chair, lifting his feet up to balance on the wall in front of him. "No? Well, _I _at least remember a certain Zeltron who run away from her smuggler boss to take a vacation with Lukie – and she was a redhead."

"Also red_skinned_," Luke pointed out helplessly.

"And how about Domina Tagge?" Klivian persisted. "Does that name ring a bell to anyone?"

"Tagge? As in Tagge Corporation's Tagge?" Thorben asked incredulously and Wedge nodded too, grinning with a reminiscent gleam in his eyes.

"That's the one." Hobbie grinned wickedly. "The sister in that family made some serious comments of how cute Lukie was when they met a couple of years ago. And boss here wasn't exactly immune to her charm, were you, Luke?"

Luke moaned quietly and rubbed his temple. Mara shook her head mentally; humiliating your commander like this qualified as insubordination in the Imperial Armed Forces, which was good for a one-way ticket to the firing squad. Still, she was aware that despite the teasing there was something… good-natured about it all. Having no references of anything similar, she followed the banter with curiosity.

"And she was red haired?" Wes inquired, eyes shining.

"Oh yes, long coppery locks." Hobbie gestured to his waist, then his hands went up to circle above his chest. "And let me tell you, I don't care _how _rich her daddy made her, it's _nothing _compared to what she inherited from her mother..."

"Ooooohhh!" the Rogues breathed in unison.

Luke rolled his eyes. "Yeah. _And_ Imperial."

Mara froze for a fraction of a second and wondered for an instant if Brie might have too. The other woman smiled challengingly. "So which got your engines smoking, Ace? Her hair or her politics?" She twined one of her own red curls between her fingers in a most blatant imitation of absentmindedness.

Luke made an obvious effort to take all of this with high spirits. "Well, I think red hair's nice, yes. It's pretty - if it's the natural color, that is. At least it's unusual." He shrugged. "In general, I guess I like women with hair…"

Laughter erupted over the table again and Luke frowned in bewilderment before he realized how it had come out. He threw his arms behind his head in resignation and couldn't quite keep a chuckle down himself. "Ok, perhaps Chewie and I share something there…"

"Ooh, Luke you're priceless!" Wedge moaned when he could talk again. "Hairy women! Do we have any?"

"I'm sure you could arrange something," Luke commented dryly. "And I guess I should be glad no one was offended, especially knowing how you like Twi'leks, Wes."

"Was that what you meant, Luke?" Alph put in. "You don't like Twi'leks?"

Luke sighed. "I never said…" he broke off, the futility of further explanations obvious. "Never mind."

"Oh, you'd like Twi'leks too if you just got involved with one!" Wes exclaimed, carefree as ever.

"Then you take the Twi'leks" Hobbie grinned, "and let Luke take the fire tops. Don't let old scars burn, boss. Not all redheads are Imps." This time Mara was sure she didn't let her emotions slip. She glanced to Brie but there was no crack in the amusement the other woman displayed. Mara reached out with her feelings, gingerly…_ still nothing! _Her senses slipped as towards a black hole.

Luke grimaced. "Thanks. Well, don't tell anyone but Pash Cracken and I – we've got this really hot thing going on…"

Shira grinned and finished her drink. "Well, I'd better get back to my own squadron before you get overheated." She rose and winked to him. "Don't forget that you owe me a dinner, Ace. I'd honestly prefer to enjoy it _before_ we go on that mission." She turned to Deena. "You can just come over any time you want, I'd be happy to introduce you." With a glance at Mara she added. "That goes for both of you of course. See you all later."

Mara followed the woman with her eyes as she walked from their table, heading for her own group. So did most men, she noticed; Shira Brie had a way of walking that set off her buxom body in a most flattering way. "Wow, she's sweet," she heard Deena say. "She's really sweet and so cool too."

"And a damned good pilot to boot," Thorben pointed out.

"Yeah," Tycho agreed. "A few more like her and we'd have this war _won_."

"I know what you mean, Tycho," Skywalker mumbled, his eyes on the retreating woman.

Mara frowned, pondering Dantels' comment of earlier. She had to agree, partly – Shira Brie certainly _seemed_ to be a friendly person.

As no doubt intended, Shira's comment didn't pass unnoticed. "You owe her a _dinner_, you lucky bastard?" Hobbie inquired, his voice going up. "When?"

"Um, we haven't agreed on the date yet," Skywalker muttered, scratching his chin.

"Be careful Luke," Thorben deadpanned. "Nothing good comes from keeping a woman waiting like that."

"He's just waiting till the situation gets good and _hairy_," Hobbie cracked.

Even Skywalker laughed at that and spread his palms "All right, all right. Point taken. And tell you what – you're right. I'd better set a date tonight." He took a quick sip from his beer as for encouragement.

Woots followed his acknowledgement but Deena seemed a tad put out. Skywalker, of course, didn't miss that any more than Mara did. He gave her an encouraging smile. "You really should go and meet the girls in Red Squadron, Dee. Don't be shy."

Deena lightened up but still hesitated. "I dunno. They're all great heroes all of them, I'm sure."

"Hey, so are we!" Wedge claimed easily, leaning back in his chair.

The other Rogues cheered their agreement but Skywalker leaned over the table, giving Deena's hand a squeeze. "And so are you! Don't you ever forget that!"

There was such an easy intimacy over the gesture that it gave a start in Mara. And she for sure had the feeling she wasn't the only one who'd noticed the affection between those two. She got to her feet, suddenly anxious to separate them, hardly knowing why herself. "C'mon Deena. You want to meet them? Let's get it over with."

Hobbie bobbed his eyebrows to the other pilots. "Wow, Red, don't be _too_ eager." Mara shot him a glower and left, pulling Deena with her.

...

Shira Brie was all forthcoming kindness when they joined the Red Squadron table and introduced them to those present with the grace of a royalty. Mara noticed a considerable number of non-pilots in her semi-court; based on their fatigues there were techs as well as ground force, plus supplies, communications and even an intel spook.

"I forgot to congratulate you, Deena." Brie smiled. "Wedge mentioned that you're getting married."

"Why, thanks," Deena beamed. "We haven't set the date yet but when we meet again we will. I miss him madly, though. It's so hard to be separated like this."

Brie smiled sympathetically. "Oh, I can imagine. It's good you have your old friends, then, in the meantime." Again, Mara tried to reach the woman in the Force and again her senses slipped, sliding like against that glass-hard, impenetrable surface.

Eyes alert, Brie turned to Mara. "And you're a mechanic, aren't you?"

Mara nodded. "That's right. B-wings."

"I thought so," Brie nodded. "Good ships." She exchanged glances with the two girls sitting closest. "Strange pilots, though," she continued casually.

Deena looked surprised. "What do you mean?"

Brie surveyed her but kept quiet. Instead it was a girl Mara remembered as Stacey who answered. "Them B-wing pilots, they're a bit aloof. Not sociable like the rest of us," she explained.

"But I know many of them very well," Deena protested. "And they're great people! Neera and Vin Nothos for example – and Pollard – not to mention Troyt. He's really a charming guy!"

Brie smiled indulgently. "Well, he's Falleen." Stacey snickered and just from the way she did it, Mara decided the girl was dense as a drum worm. Not silly like Deena, but really, _dumb_. Thinking about it, she wasn't impressed with the Force aura of most of those gathered here. They might be good pilots and whatever but there was no spark to it like there had been to the Rogue company; Brie alone stood out as witty and spirited.

Execpt, she didn't. Not in the Force. Mara frowned.

"… big-headed, if you ask me," the other girl, Malina, was saying. "I mean, why can't they hang out with the rest of us? _I_'ve never..." _Not in the Force_.

And suddenly it hit Mara, like a shot from an ion canon; there was no way _anyone_, least of all a strong and vibrant personality as Shira Brie, could leave such a scarce imprint in the Force. Mara didn't _need_ to sense her emotions, her inability to do so told volumes in itself. The woman must be shielding! Suddenly it seemed clear as Ilum crystal, and Mara could only wonder why she hadn't realized it sooner.

"…no reason to condemn them!" Deena protested. "People are so different! And there can be many explanations why…"

Was Skywalker aware of this? Surely not – he had never seemed to notice Mara's own shielding either. Sure, she was good at it but… Lost in her thoughts, Mara lost all track of the ongoing discussion.

If the shielding was why Skywalker had subconsciously kept Brie at a distance, wasn't his melting now a clear sign that he still didn't know what she was doing? How much training had he actually received? Did he even know that shielding was possible? And if he didn't, then he sure as hell wasn't shielding himself. Might Mara's own, clear sensations of him be due to this? She had probably never met another Force sensitive who wasn't shielding.

"What do you think?"

Mara jumped. "Huh?"

Deena looked agitated. "Well, about the B-wing pilots? You told me you've spoken to Nera."

"I have." Mara shrugged, glancing about at the others. Stacey and Malina were watching Deena, mixed feelings evident on their faces – somehow Deena had managed to stir feelings again.

Brie only was calm personified. "Hey," she soothed, "no need to get upset. We're just discussing differences here. It's not like we're on opposite sides or anything." She laughed lightly.

"No, of course not, but…" Deena broke off, suddenly insecure. She blushed. "Sorry. I just…"

"Don't worry. You misunderstood what we were saying." Bries voice was soft. "And they're your friends. You stood up for them. That's a good thing." She glanced at the other girls. "Right?" For some reason cold chills run down Mara's spine at her words.

"Absolutely," the others nodded, but Mara was certain she wasn't the only one who'd missed what this was all about. Brie might have her own squadron but she also surrounded herself with puppets. And Mara would give a lot to hear what they would say later, when Mara and Deena had left the company. As the chat moved on, she shrugged off her jacket as subtly as she could and slipped it loosely over the back of her chair. Making sure that no one looked, she shifted in the seat, nudging her elbow in the same direction. The jacket fell unnoticed to the floor.

...

His decision finally made, Luke didn't allow himself the luxury of doubt but headed straight through the room towards the table where Shira sat in amicable chit chat with her friends. Deena and Mara were there too; he noticed that Deena was slightly put out, but that was nothing new, of course. Mara was her cool observing self – nothing new either. _Did she never relax? And if she did…_ Luke's line of thought broke as Shira turned to look at him, an expectant smile on her exquisite face. He summoned all his courage. "Um, hi. I owe you a dinner."

If she'd been dazzling before it was nothing compared to the sunburst she offered him at that, and Luke had to croak his next words out. "I thought… maybe tomorrow?"

Shira's hand went to her mouth and her happy expression died. "Oh, I can't. My shift is tomorrow evening." She glanced at the other girls. "But maybe I can change…"

"No, no," Luke assured. "Let's just say the day after tomorrow then. It will give Ollie more time to prepare."

That brought her smile back. "That's a point. And me too." She winked. "When? Nineteen hundred hours?"

"Great!" Luke found himself grinning foolishly. "I, um, I'll go and have a chat with Ollie then. See you in two days!"

"Looking forward to it Ace!" The smile she gave him would have made a wampa coo. Luke left the table almost triumphant. _Boy, you did it! You really did it! _The excitement of having finally pulled himself together pushed his apprehensions away. After all, what harm could a dinner do?

...

Deena hadn't quite recovered from her initial clash and when Luke left without a further look in her direction she seemed more lost than ever. She glanced at Mara. "Maybe we… uh, I should…"

"Go get some sleep? I thought you'd never ask," Mara grunted. She'd about had it along time ago and Skywalker's surrender to that little arachnid was the final drop. Men! A bit of flattering from a pretty woman and they all fell sooner or later – exceptional abilities or not. Turning to the others she announced more loudly, "Well, this has been nice, but I have an early shift tomorrow. So, good night everybody." She got to her feet, making sure to push the jacket further into the dark corner as she did.

"Good night," Deena echoed. She fumbled with her beer, the mug still half full, but the let go, the urge to get away getting to overwhelming.

When they were out of hearing, Mara murmured. "What happened back there? Were they actually badmouthing the B-wing pilots?"

Deena bit her lip. "Well, I _thought_ they were. But maybe I was wrong? I just…" She hesitated but when she realized Mara was indeed listening she continued. "It's just that… there's been so much _gossiping_ around on this ship. I don't understand it. Not among pilots, supply folks mostly and maybe mechs, but I guess I overreacted."

"Gossiping? About who?"

For some reason Mara just knew the answer even before Deena gave it.

...

Luke was debating the dinner menu with the mess chef, when Shira walked up beside him. "Luke, can I talk with you for a minute?"

The initial excitement having precipitated, Luke was remembering his many reservations again, but he wasn't about to back out. He had promised Shira this dinner and he would keep it too. "Sure," he told her, "but maybe you can help me first? Ollie here suggests cracknels as starters and Corellian spiced nerf steak with Cattarash mushrooms as main course - he thinks he can actually manage some tenderloin. You like Corellian, don't you?"

"Oh, I do! I definitely do! Mmm, sounds delicious." Shira's face lit up. "What's for dessert?"

"Well, we haven't decided yet, so you might as well do it for us. Would you prefer fruit or Jhen honey pudding?"

Shira grinned. "You should know the answer. Don't you remember on Imatra when we found honeycrust in the stowage and blew-out the entire stay?"

Luke broke into a grin too. "I sure do. Pudding then?"

"Absolutely. And sorry, Ollie, you can take your fruits and stuff them up your… er… something. Fruit's not real dessert."

Ollie made a sour face. "It's healthy."

"I'll start eating it when I round my 50's then. Besides, that rubbery stuff we get around here is hardly worth the word. Sweet Ollie, don't take it personally. It was different on Yavin IV where we could just pick all kinds of delicious things straight from the threes."

The mess chef shrugged, not bothering to hide his displeasure, and turned back to his business. Luke turned to Shira. "Well, I guess it's settled then…"

She eyed him carefully, something in her expression making him on tiptoes again. "Are you looking forward to it?"

"Of course," Luke assured her. "Sure." It wasn't exactly the truth; he was feeling too many mixed things and somewhere he simply wanted the whole thing over with but of course he was looking forward to it too.

Shira took a deep breath. "The reason I ask is because I feel I've almost been pushing you into having this dinner with me." She held up her hand, stopping his protests. "And I just wanted to assure you that I've noticed this and that you don't need to worry. Look, the thing is that I'm really looking forward to this dinner; it will be a nice change, I'll be able to dress up a bit – oh well, we'll both be able to do that, but I guess I'll be the one enjoying that part most -" she flashed a disarming smile in self-acknowledgement, "but I don't want to deny that I'm looking forward to an evening in your company as well. And I'd want you to be able to come to this dinner and just relax too; nothing more to it, just two friends having a good time."

Luke breathed out and relief filled him, maybe for the first time ever in her company. "Ok," he smiled, not aware that his face lit up in a genuine, sunny grin. "You've got yourself a deal."

Returning to the dimly light bar to retrieve her jacket, Mara subtly changed her walk as well as her whole carriage. With a slight slump of the shoulders she was less likely to attract attention and if any one did they would probably just think her tired.

And being tired, of course, was her excuse for not remembering where she had left her jacket. Thus she first headed for Rogue Squadron table. Skywalker had left, she'd seen him leave the Chaos on her way back but she found the others where she'd left them. The earlier, light-hearted mood hachanged, though - and the reason seemed to be a tall pilot in gray suit who appeared pretty agitated.

"All I'm saying is that people are talking. He's changed lately, and people don't belive him infallible anymore."

"Well, war changes people, in case you haven't noticed." A sharp edge was creeping into Thorben's voice. "Luke never asked to be the pet of the Alliance, and if his halo's gone, then I'd imagine him more relieved than sad."

The grey suit looked around but facing only determined agreement he relented. "Ok, ok, you guys should know. But I hope he treats her nicely. She's been keen on him for ages now. And if he's just taking her out to dump her afterwards…"

"Last time I looked, Shira was a grown up girl," Tycho pointed out. "I'm sure she can take care of herself. And until only a few weeks ago she was his subordinate so that would have led to trouble not only for them both but the entire squadron as well. Don't tell me you think _that_ would have been a good idea?"

"Besides, if Luke still doesn't want it to develop, then he has his reasons," Wedge added firmly. "He's my boss and no matter what you say or think, he's still the best darned squadron commander in the Alliance and Empire put together."

A supporting murmur accompanied his words.

"Ok, fine." The grey suit shrugged. "Well, we'll see how things develop." He nodded and left, leaving the Rogues to look warily at each other.

Wedge was the first to notice Mara, who'd halted a few steps away. Antilles' eyebrows went up in question. "Hey? I thought you'd gone to bed?" The others turned to look at her.

"You realized you forgot to kiss me goodnight?" Hobbie put in hopefully.

"Forgot my jacket," Mara muttered, ignoring him.

Wedge's eyes darted to the seats and from there to the floor, then back to Mara again. "Well it isn't here and I actually don't think you took it off either. Wes? Did Mara take of her jacket while she sat here?"

"Nope. She sure as hell didn't."

"There," Antilles winked. "No way Wes would forget a beautiful woman undressing in his company."

Mara's mouth twitched but she managed to keep it down. When she left she heard Jansen theater whisper to the others. "Saw that? She almost smiled, she did! Bet you ten credits I'll be the one in this company who can first make her crack a smile!"

"I'll take that bet," Hobbie's grinning voice came back. "Three makes a crowd, right Wedge?"

Antilles must have nodded because Wes' voice spoke up. "Bigger pot for me! Just you wait – I give it one week…"

Her back to them, Mara did allow herself a smile. They were crazy and they were Rebels but apart from that the Rogues were pretty fun.

Her muscles tensed as she closed in to Red table and she breathed out, willing her body to relax. She wanted to come in close enough and slowly enough to pick up a few tidbits there too. She just…

The crowd spread just enough for her to be able to spot Red table – and she found herself staring straight into Shira Brie's watchful eyes. A thin smile crossed the other woman's face in recognition but she returned to her conversation and didn't turn her attention to Mara before she was by their table. "Hello Mara. Forgot something?" she wondered evenly.

"My jacket," Mara explained. She bent down and caught it from the floor but didn't miss the sudden flash of realization on Brie's face. _She guessed…!_

Mara left the Chaos in deep thought. Brie had somehow spotted her well in advance and ruined her sneak-up maneuver. Moreover, she had seen through Mara's little trick with the jacket, of that she was sure. Not many did.

Of course, the jacket trick was basics in spy-training…

...

"No. Well, yes, but… later." Han muttered.

Chewie growled a protest and the Corellian finally looked up from the dispatches he was studying. "OK, OK I know! And I _will_ look at it! Listen, I _want_ to look at it! I _look forward_ to look to it." His eyes went back to the datascreen showing a greenshimmering, forest clad planet. "But I… I really need to take care of this first."

The big Wook barked and Han silently had to agree. He had more experience than he wanted to prove that a complete rewiring of the hyperdrive was a _very_ bad move in the center of a rebel base in the middle of a war – but he'd needed an excuse - and a place where Leia couldn't see what he _really_ was doing. And when he'd told her that he didn't trust the hyperdrive changes that had been made during his carbon freezing she'd willingly swallowed the explanation, an eyeroll and a head shake declaring exactly how predictable she thought he was.

Han couldn't wait to tell her how wrong she was this time. But he'd have to for awhile yet.

Chewie glared at him a moment longer. Then, realizing he wouldn't get any help from his friend for some time yet, he rose his paws and the hydrospanner in them to the air, moaned and returned to the hyperdrive. Han went back to studying the dispatches of Endor It was going to get risky. He _had_ to convince Madine that he had to lead this thing. If it had been Riekaan or Cracken or even Ackbar who'd been leading the Special Operations, Han would already have been recruited to the job. Instead it looked like the responsibility would fall on Joni Eljas. Han gritted his teeth. Eljas was a good man and an experienced leader but too conventional for this sort of mission, far too unaccustomed to improvise. This sort of stuff always went wrong, especially when you had as little information as they did on that forest moon.

For the umpteenth time Han reminded himself how stupid he was, putting his head on the block for a girl. She was that, wasn't she? Just a girl. But then, she was His Girl. His Princess. He'd met many amazing women in his life, the galaxy was full of them, but he had never met anyone like Leia. Her fire when she talked of her Alliance, her anger when he beat her in an argument, her warm smile when she looked at him, her complete passion when he held her in his arms, her grace –royalty wasn't an empty term when it came to her. Adopted she might be but she was a true Princess at heart.

He wanted her to know she could trust him, stay with him… marry him…

Wait a minute? Marry?

Yeah, marry! Have kids with, that sort of stuff. Get old with. He could imagine her with wrinkles and grey hair, knowing with absolute certainly that she'd be more beautiful than ever as an old lady**.**

He might get himself killed this way, in command of an entire squadron, with all the restraints and responsibilities that followed, instead of answering to his old best friends Me, Myself, and I.

But what the heck – she was worth it!

T.B.C.


	14. Chapter 14

Looks like my pace of posting worked out again - thank you frodogenic - you're the best! This chapter would never have worked out without the great help from Cat's Cradle too - thank you for technichal support and a chemistry lesson!

Huge thanks also to readers and reviewers - thanks to stats I know you are far more who read than rev - I hope you all continue to hang on and enjoy the ride! Don't be shy to drop me a line - remember that it's you who keep me going!

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**Quagmire - Chapter 14**

**The Dinner**

Luke was waiting in the Small Mess, where a corner had been screened off in order in the effort to make a cozy dinner place for two. Ollie, convinced there was no special request "his place" couldn't accomodate, had put quite a lot of droids to work to transform a corner of the hall to a private partition.

Contemplating the result, Luke decided that the privacy part was fulfilled but the coziness factor still left a great deal to be desired. He took a deep breath and fingered the collar of his best uniform. Well, this was as good as it could get on a Rebel ship in wartime. The main reason why he was nervous wasn't the seating arrangements, nor even Ollie and his droids' doubtful culinary prowess; it was purely the soon-expected company that threatened to break him into a cold sweat. Why had he agreed to this in the first place?

The soon-expected company arrived impeccably on time and immediately caused Luke to both panic and forget why in rapid succession. Shira looked beautiful. She wore a black dress, simple but perfectly fit and setting off her femininity with its well tailored, sober cut. Her auburn hair was pulled back from her face into a high chignon that underlined her carriage and the gracious line of her neck. A small amount of makeup elevated her naturally pretty face to a vision of beauty.

She smiled at his expression, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "At ease, Commander. Permission to breathe granted."

Luke realized that he had indeed been holding his breath at the sight of her and let out a small laugh. "Oh. I...um… You look beautiful!"

Shira beamed at the compliment and Luke hurried to pull out her chair. She sat graciously and Luke followed suit, surprised that all had gone well at least so far.

"So?" Shira wondered. "Do I remember this correctly? Cracknels for appetizer, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Luke confirmed, glancing to the waiting droid that instantly rolled onwards, serving the first course and filling their glasses with Bespin sparkler. Luke lifted his glass. "To a good evening?" he suggested, hoping he didn't sound too uninventive.

"To a good evening," Shira agreed readily and toasted. "And if Ollie actually manages to spice that tenderloin properly it will be too. I love Corellian – and I haven't tasted a proper meal of it in years."

Luke looked at her in surprise. "You should come onboard the _Falcon_ at some point, then. Han is a pretty good cook, actually. And he cooks nothing but his native."

Shira put her glass down, donning an incensed expression. "What? All these years and you've never told me?"

"Hey, I didn't _know_ you like Corellian," Luke protested.

Shira laughed, not bothering to maintain her feigned offence. She picked a cracknel, took a bite and sighed with satisfaction. Then she lit up, as if remembering something and spoke up, some food still in her mouth. "Mh! Have you ever heard the story of why Corellian food got so spicy?"

Luke picked an appetizer of his own and gave her an amused look. "No. But I assume you're about to tell me."

She winked and swallowed. "Well, once upon a time there was a poor Corellian fisherman. He _loved_ spiced food but in those days you could never find anything even nearly spicy on Corellia. They had salt, and that was about it."

"Sounds like life in the Rebellion…"

"Shut up, I'm telling a story here. And they had no spices on Drall or Selonia either for that matter. So this poor man had to…"

Luke dug into his cracknel, still astonished while he listened fully-amused at Shira's story. Why had he thought this would be so hard?

. . .

Mara was on the way back from her shift, having walked halfway down the ship towards her cabin when she got a feeling something was wrong.

Very wrong.

She stopped in the middle of _Home _One's central corridor corridor, stepping aside to the pristine white bulkhead in order not to clog the constant stream of people hurrying back and forth, while she tried to pin down this sudden but already insistant uneasiness**. **

There was a threat - somewhere – yet it wasn't imminent, wasn't too close. Reaching for the Force, Mara tried to get a hint of where to start worrying, but all she could get out of it was a vague sensation that it lay towards the aft. And since _Home One_ was about 3800 meters long and she was near the bow, that wasn't very helpful.

For a moment she stood irresolute, wondering what what she should do. Ignore? Take action?

She _was_ among rebels after all - and she had no reason to believe that the threat, whatever it was, would turn out to be a hindrance for her own mission. If there was an explosion or a fire, even a bomb on the ship, she would no doubt hear about it soon, maybe even have to take part in repairing whatever damage it caused. So the most rational line of action would be to simply walk away – and wait for things to unfold by a nice, cozy escape pod.

On the other hand, even if it was a bomb, it would have to be _very _conveniently placed in order to start a chain reaction. And if Mara didn't go to look for herself, she might never know what had hit them. It wasn't so much curiosity, she told herself as she turned and started to trot down the corridor, as it was a question of keeping herself updated with the events. After all, her Master had always enjoined on her the importance of independent, updated information. And if there _was_ a bomb, the leaders of the Alliance would no doubt try to hush the matter up.

Besides - rebels or not - there were lives at stake.

It took her several minutes to come close enough to the threat for her danger sense to start becoming urgent. Mara stopped again and tried anew to get a sense of direction from the Force. Further forward? Lower in the ship? Up? She stretched out with her senses as much as she was able, wishing not for the first time that her abilities had been better.

She had already passed the turbolifts she used every day when going to the main hangar and was near to the aft. The corridor would soon dead-end into the power and propulsion systems. As far as she could recall, she'd only been here twice; when she'd first arrived and had started with exploring the vessel and when she'd followed Deena to…

_Deena!_ _The supplies!_ The danger came from the supply storerooms below! Mara burst full tilt towards the nearest turbo lift. The big warehouses were on Decks Two and Three, she remembered, and while she ran, she realized with a sudden clarity that terrified her quite unexpectedly, that Deena was on shift right now!

She caught the lift and decided to take her chances with Deck Two, the one she'd previously visited, palming the key with an urgency that made her fellow passenger – a salmon colored Calamari male - wobble his eyes in surprise.

"Oh dear, you seem to be in a hurry," he commented amiably. Mara hesitated for a moment. Nothing good would come of it if she told anyone about her premonition. She definitely had no interest in being chalked up with Skywalker and his hard-core Jedi mystics – she had no good reputation or hero nimbus to bolster her against dangerous prejudices. Mara frowned. Her nostrils flared.

"Tell me," she muttered, "does it smell like smoke in here to you?"

The Mon Cal turned his head sideways to fix a large bulbous eye on her. Though she still knew frustratingly little of Mon Cal facial expressions, Mara could tell he found her a tad too hysterical for his taste. Then his nostril started to flare too.

"By the Force," he exclaimed, astonished. "You're quite right. It _does_ smell like smoke. What…?"

"I had this feeling", Mara muttered, aware that she might give too much away, but hoping it would seem more sensible later when Deena was safe. "I don't know, suddenly I just thought I could smell smoke and…"

"The store rooms," the Mon Cal gasped. "Are you sure it's Level Two?"

"Of course I'm _not_ sure!" Mara snapped and palmed in Level Three as well. "I have no idea what's happening, I just thought I could smell smoke."

It was on level three: once the lift doors hissed open there was no doubt. Clouds of black smoke billowed into the car. Mara tumbled back into the lift, coughing hard and pulling her sleeve to her mouth to filter at least some of it away.

"Why isn't the fire alarm working?" the Mon Cal cried. "It should have sounded ages ago with this amount of smoke!"

"Like I'd know," Mara coughed, trying to suck enough air into her lungs to speak. "Get to the next level and start the alarm! Make sure it's a Code Three! I'll go look for survivors. I'll get them to this turbolift when I find them."

She dived out of the lift and into the smoke before she realized that the lift might stop working any time soon. "Make that the emergency stairtubes," she shouted over her shoulder, ignoring the alien's protests that she might get herself killed.

The smoke was so thick that she lost her visual on the lift only steps into the passageway but she could hear it close and start. A few steps later she realized that she indeed _would _get herself killed unless she found an oxygen mask – soon! She called on the Force to keep her head clear but knew that wasn't going to help her for long.

Smoke - but no smoke alarm? And where in the blazes was the _fire_?

Reaching a hand out to the wall to stabilize herself and re-orient her senses, she continued down the pathway. Suddenly her foot hit something soft. Glancing down, Mara saw a woman lying unconscious at her feet. She cursed silently – before she could help, she needed to prevent herself from collapsing. Slapping her way along the wall, she finally found an emergency kit a few meters forward on the wall. She shattered the duraplex case with a kick and pulled a mask to her face. Not a moment too soon, it had already begun to swim before her eyes.

She was just about to rush back to the unconscious woman with an oxygen mask when the alarm started sounding; the Mon Cal had finally reached an alert station. Right then, the smoke dissolved for a moment and Mara realized that the door closest by was standing wide open. What if the doors were malfunctioning all the way to the fire? She still could hear no sound of it - and no one had sounded an alarm – _they can't _all_ be unconscious, can they_…?

And suddenly it hit her – the black smoke, the unconscious woman – the woman hadn't fainted of the smoke at all – it had to be the the plastifoam containers! _Jade you idiot! You noticed them the other day - and then just went along and forgot it!_ The containers were burning, that was what caused the black smoke, but the woman must have fainted when they were melting since that was when the plastifoam had released the toxic gas. Which meant that everybody, _everybody_ who had breathed in the dactylid gas was unconscious, had been for a while already. With malfunctioning doors that could mean huge areas - and an awful lot of people.

Mara threw a glance at the woman; there was a rescue team coming and she would be the first one to be rescued – those further in were in greater danger – and Deena was further in. Grabbing as many oxygen masks as she could carry, she started to run down the corridor.

…and slipped wildly on the floor! Her feet skidded, lost their traction and threw her headlong to the floor, the masks scattering in all directions. _What the…!_

It was oil. Scrabbling to her knees, she pulled her hand up to inspect it. Thick, greasy oil puddled on the floor – and still spreading. Could it be the content of some of the containers? Mara got gingerly to her feet, scooping up the oil-smeared masks in a hurry. Whatever it was, she didn't have time for puzzles – she continued as quickly as she dared. Every door she passed was standing open – and every one she closed dutifully, hauling them shut with the manual handholds like standard shipboard emergency procedures demanded. By closing them, she capped the oxygen flow and limited the fire's ability to spread; however, she also endangered the possible survivors even more. Mara reached out again with her feeble Force powers. She could sense faint presences, not far away, and somewhere beyond them, Deena's blurred mind.

Great - this was just great – and what the nine hells of Corellia was she, the Emperor's Hand, doing in the middle of this?

Cursing vividly through gritted teeth, Mara continued forward. She had no idea of distances here, she only knew that Deena was supposed to be in one of the main supply halls, going through a new stock of canned brisselfish; she'd been complaining that some of it was avowedly stinking like bantha stools in Tatooine midday suns even before they finished unloading the supply ships. Right now, Mara wished she had listened better to Shan's babbling; then she might have had an idea of how many halls there actually were.

A moment later, Mara stumbled on three humans and a Duros. The Duros had a comlink in his hand but had apparently fainted before he'd been able to use it. Mara grabbed the com and called Ops.

"Ops Center? This is Mara Jade, calling from Supply, third floor." She had to shout to be sure she was heard over the alarm and her muffling gas mask.

"Supply?" a voice crackled back. "We have fire alarm. Where…?"

"It's here somewhere. It must be the plastifoam containers burning. You need to increase the amount of oxygen in the cargo holds, do you hear? Increase the…"

"Negative." The slightly hoarse, female voice back was not only on top of the situation but durasteel firm. "If we increase the oxygen levels the fire will spread. In this moment we are decreasing…"

"Bantha pudu," Mara shouted. "There are people still in here and they're unconscious! If you decrease the oxygen they'll die!"

"If we increase oxygen they'll die anyway as the fire spreads. And the fire will continue to other parts of the ship."

Mara thought quickly. They were right of course; fire consumed oxygen – a vital but limited resource on every starship. Besides, the huge power and propulsor systems of the ship were not far away either if she remembered correctly. If the fire hit there, all hell would break loose… But Deena had been in there for what, twenty minutes at least? If she didn't get help soon… And now Mara had these four on her conscience too.

"Listen! I'm in supply chamber…57," she shouted, finding the room number above the door. "Here's still no fire but I'll be moving towards it and closing the doors behind me. Increase oxygen in this room and those behind me. I came from elevator…" She paused and realized she'd forgotten to check the number of the turbolift. _Stupid amateur mistakes like that'll get you killed, Jade!_

"Elevator 21?" the voice came back, calm and composed. "We got the alarm from close to vacuum elevator 21. Was that you?"

"No, but I came that way. Listen. I'll be moving away from the turbolift, can you follow the doors closing in this area on your screen?"

"Affirmative. And you want me to increase the amount of oxygen in your trail. I'll see to that."

"Send some people in this way too. There are four persons unconscious here at the moment. With more oxygen they might wake up and be able to walk away themselves."

"Copy that. I'll contact MedBay and get a paramedic squad down there. May the Force be with you, Tech Officer Jade. Ops out." Despite the serious situation Mara couldn't hold back a smile; apparently the efficient-sounding woman had already had her dialed up in the system.

Next second, a deafening hoot came through the sound central of the room, sounding well over the alarm and causing Mara to almost jump. She shut down the comm quickly and headed for the next supply hall, hurriedly closing the door behind her. She recognized the racket as an attempt to wake people up and hoped the method would prove itself more effective than it was sophisticated.

. . .

Luke pushed his plate away, wondering how he would be able to find room for the dessert too. Shira grinned at him. "Well, that could have been worse."

"It certainly could," Luke agreed, his hand going supportively to his stomach. "Ollie has surpassed himself tonight. I'd never thought that food like this was available on _Home One_. Not to us grunts in the lower ranks, anyway..."

Shira smirked. "Hmm, and that raises the question: how much appreciation does a Tatooine boy have of the delights of inter-galactic cuisine? But I have to agree - at least partly. That steak had nothing to do with tenderloin but on the other hand the spicing was perfect."

Luke pursed his mouth. "And while the mushrooms weren't fresh, they were at least Cattarash?"

"Quite so. And while the emerald wine wasn't emerald but more like… lime-colored, at least it wasn't beer."

They laughed and Shira tilted her head. "I've always thought beer was the best to follow spiced food but I have to admit that wine knocked the gravity away. I'll have to try it a few more times."

She went on to something else but Luke forgot to follow as two things suddenly connected with a completely third that was looming in the back of his mind. "Wait! That Corellian in your story…"

"Yes?" Shira lifted her eyebrows. "Got an idea, Ace?"

"He was turned upside down, right?"

"He was. And?"

"And all the spice fell out of his pockets?"

"Oh yes." Shira confirmed and continued in her best story-teller's voice. "All all the spice he'd spent so great effort and time to gather, fell out of his pockets and was spread by the wind _all_ over Corellia. And from that day on…"

"Do you know if we've got any gravity convertors small enough to be hidden on a person?"

She blinked. "What?"

Luke blushed at his own eagerness. "Uh, sorry. Just new subject."

"Obviously." Shira pursed her lips, giving the matter a thought. "Well, if not, I think it wouldn't take much trouble to change some existing models. Wouldn't the techs be able to modulate some of the DK-91's to smaller size…? Why? Will we be using them to steal that shuttle?"

Luke realized suddenly that he was on thin ice. Can't relax that much, Skywalker...He'd been thinking of Wedge's upcoming mission, and everything concerning that was strictly confidential. He made a face and beat a retreat. "No."

Shira rose her eyebrows again at that, her curiosity triggered but not missing the hint either. "Ah. Top secret then. But about the shuttle, do you happen know what it's going to be used for, once we've stolen it?"

Luke cocked his head and smiled. The amount of green wine he'd consumed made him daring enough to try to charm himself out of the suddenly precarious situation. "No." It wasn't an exact lie either; he didn't know.

Shira grinned, amused. "Do you ever ask what good will come of your efforts or do you simply...do as you're told?" She tilted her head suggestingly.

Luke's grin deepened. "No."

"That's not an answer," she reproached. "Can you say anything besides 'no'?"

Luke started sputtering. "Yes."

"I should have known. Now, what should I do to keep you in that mood?"

"Sorry, what mood?" Luke lost the thread again, as usual when confronted with her quick wit.

Shira lifted her chin, a knowing smile tugging the corners of her mouth. "The mood where you say 'yes,'" she told him. "The mood where you actually relax and laugh and make jokes despite being alone with me. It's so often that you turn so somber and closed. I'm so glad it doesn't have to be that way." Then, without missing a beat, "Ah! The pudding"

Luke, who had tensed and almost held his breath, started as the serving droid came in. For a while both their attention was on the droid, while it collected plates with one mechanic arm and served dessert with another. It was indeed pudding – caramelized Jhen honey pudding, to be precise.

"Ok, Ace, ready for the assault?" Shira took her spoon and lifted it, peering challengingly at Luke.

He hurried to grab his spoon in turn, grateful for the change of topic. "This a question of who finishes first, isn't it? Why is it that somewhere I can hear my aunt lecturing me that this is not a way to behave at a fine restaurant?"

"I hate to say it but your aunt has a point." Shira's eyes narrowed as she took measure of the dessert arrangement before her. "And I fear Ollie has found a refined way to revenge himself for my contempt of his fruit the other day. There's no way I can stop myself from eating all of this, but I know I will have a major stomach ache when I'm finished."

"It's not a refined revenge, actually - it's a very rude one," Luke commented. "Let's find a way to pay him back, shall we – after we've finished this. Besides, it isn't really a fine restaurant."

"That's my man. Positions?" Shira rose her spoon high into the air. "Ready? Steady! Attack!"

Their raised spoons froze in unison as the sound of an alarm cut through the mess hall speakers Luke sat up in his chair, Shira likewise, their attention pulled away towards the sudden, unknown danger. Automatically Luke reached out with his senses and confusion and fear crashed against him. His first thought was; _Leia!_

Yet, as he reached out for her in the Force he found her immediately, her presence clear and luminescent as always and he knew that she was safe. Reaching out, he almost stumbled over Mara's Force presence – _why am I stumbling over that woman everywhere?_ – and realized that _she_ was in peril - but also fiercely determined. Then he caught other minds, several of them, but numb and unconscious – and around them heat, ablaze and roaring and a strangling lack of air! Tumbling to his feet he started running towards the main hatch.

"What's happening?" Shira gasped, running after him.

"Fire alarm!" Luke shouted over his shoulder.

"Shavit!" Shira got up and started running, then stopped to kick off her neat party shoes before sprinting after him again, bare foot and in full tilt. "The one day I decide to wear a dress!"

. . .

Mara had passed three halls more and closed the doors behind her, hopefully saving the lives of those she passed, before she saw the flames. The sight and the mighty roar of them made her heart skip a beat. This was madness. She should stay in here, seal the door against the flames and…

Her comm cracked, hardly audible against the roar of the flames and the still-sounding hoots. Mara lifted it to her mouth. "Yeah?"

"Tech Officer Jade? You're in Hall 53, correct? Do you have visible contact with the fire yet?"

"I do." She was still staring mesmerized at the flames, rising high in the large storage hall, already licking the durasteel ceiling, greedy and vicious. She had no idea how widespread the damage was or how many halls the fire had already spread int. Most of the containers burned, the others were melting from the nearby heat. She kicked herself back to action, taking in her surroundings. "I also have five unconscious people visual, so you'll excuse me – I don't have time for a chat." _Five people here, Force knew how many further down – only six oxygen masks – and Deena wasn't even in sight!_

"Hang on! Reinforcements on the way. Ops out."

Mara hurried around to the collapsed supply techs she could see and started to strap oxygen masks on them. If she was lucky some of them might wake up before she needed to drag them out – or did people wake up by themselves if they had inhaled polydactylic gas? She had no idea, leave it to the rescue team when they arrived – they couldn't be far away now –

She had given oxygen masks to two people when she got stopped short by a Quarreen, his face tentacles effectively preventing the mask from fitting. _Frak the fishheads! Wasn't this supposed to be a Mon Cal spaceship?_ Mara threw the mask to the floor in frustration. She was sweating heavily now and her head was swimming from the heat in the hall and her exertions. If she pushed herself too far, Deena's life was forfeit, if it wasn't already. Mara reached out with the Force again – and sensed her. Close - still alive – and somewhere in between the containers. If she wanted her to live she had to get her - now!

Mara gritted her teeth and headed straight into the raging hell. She had to skate more than run in order not to slip on the oily floor and was in constant danger of sliding straight into the burning containers. Here and there she passed collapsed bodies, many of them burning too but she willed herself to ignore them; she was here for Deena.

She felt it like she'd been hurrying and slipping along the containers for a lifetime, the fire roaming and spitting sparks into her hair, sweat streaming down her face around and inside the oxygen mask, soaking down her body, every muscle aching now and her hair sticking against her forehead, the sound of her ragged breath. Then she saw her. Collapsed in a chair, blond head tipped to one side, Deena Shan would have looked like she was taking a nap if it weren't for the pouncing of flames around her.

Mara spurted to her friend, crouched beside her chair and dragged the girl over her shoulders. She almost collapsed at the weight but somehow, someway, forced her shaking legs to straighten, her back doubling under the load, feet slipping wildly. The heat was almost unbearable. A sticking feeling in her throat and nose told her that her violent effort had caused a leak in her oxygen mask; the smoke was getting into her lungs again. The dactylid gas should have been consumed by the fires by now, however, there was no risk she'd collapse… no risk she'd collapse… not of that…Mara forced herself to move, faster, faster… _no risk of collapse_… She tumbled against a container and screamed in pain; it was afire on top and the rest of the plastifoam was melting. Mara staggered back on track, dimly aware that Deena must have taken most of the contact; no time to stop and worry now… _no risk of collapse_… Time stopped, there was only her own painful, labored breath, her aching feet – were they moving at all? – how long had she been running in this hell? Everywhere she looked the containers were igniting; she passed burning bodies, sparks whirled about her, she wondered dimly if Deene felt the heat as well, was she even still alive?

Faintly, she registered shouts, forms appearing out of the smoke, someone screaming into her ear. A shock of cold sprayed against her, blissfully cold, and she realized it was water. Someone released her of the weight, she could hardly remember what she'd been carrying anymore or why she'd come here in the first place. She was hauled by the arms and she stumbled with the pull, shouts and screams filled the air, and a dull, hissing sound… why was it so dark?

.

She came to herself after what seemed like ages but actually was only moments later. People were running back and forth around her; she leaned slumped against a bulkhead, a new, intact oxygen mask against her face. As her head started clearing, Mara struggled to come to her feet. A man stopped, helping her up and steadying her by her shoulder. "Are you ok?"

Mara nodded and the man continued, shouting to make himself heard over the tumult. "Can you get out yourself? It's that way." He pointed. "Everyone who we don't have to carry can mean a life more saved. Don't panic. We'll have the fire under control in minutes."

He glanced down her arm. "You have some nasty burns there. A few halls further you'll get some bactapatches for those. Then hurry off to the medbay."

Nodding, Mara started to make her way back, having no idea of whether Deena - the reason she'd gone through all this - was alive or not.

. . .

"Oh, here you are."

Mara looked up at the voice, having almost dozed off in the chair beside Deena's bed. Luke Skywalker was standing before her, his face a mix of worry and relieved surprise. Mara sat up and blinked sleep from her eyes, trying to transfer back to reality. The fires had merged into her dreams and she had lost track of which parts had actually happened.

"Are you okay?" Skywalker's voice was full of concern as he crouched beside her.

"Sure." She said that automatically, not because she remembered whether it was true or not. The 21-B droid had insisted on tending to her and she recalled it had taped something on her forehead as well as her burnt arm, but she hadn't looked in a mirror and actually had no idea whether half of her hair was gone or not. She might, she realized, look seriously terrible.

Her sudden worry must have showed because Skywalker smiled comfortingly. "I can see that you've got a few burns yourself, but otherwise you look great. I'm so impressed with what you did back there. Everybody's talking about it."

Mara's eyes widened in horror and Luke burst into laughter. "Okay, not _everybody_. But I sensed that you were in danger and knew who to ask when I finally managed to get there. I think you inspired the whole rest of the rescue crew singlehanded."

"Well, good. I didn't plunge into that hell for fun," Mara muttered rolling her eyes. She gave Deena a quick glance. "I almost came too late for her, though."

Luke turned to the bed. Deena looked pale and very vulnerable, a breathing mask still strapped to her face and the rest of her almost covered with bacta patches – the medic had insisted on treating her lungs and nerves before putting her into a bacta tank . "Did you know she was on duty?" he wondered quietly.

Mara nodded and looked down. She could feel Skywalker's eyes on her but stubbornly ignored the feelings he radiated. She was ready to drop already. Her throat was constricted and sore from smoke and her whole body hurt from exhaustion and gas inhalation. She felt heavy and light at the same time; senses muddled, extremely aware of being alive, of the burn on her arm, the blood still circulating in her veins and the pricking feeling in her skin. Skin. How good it was to have one…

Luke didn't say anything but turned back to the bed. He reached out and gently stroked a blond curl away from Deena's temple. Mara swallowed hard, something in his tenderness towards the unconscious girl taking her with surprise, her eyes locking on his hand. She could see the veins on the back of it, the shape of his strong fingers. It looked so manly, so compelling, so vigorous…

For a muted moment she thought of, could almost feel, how vitalizing that rugged hand would be on her own skin, then she blinked and pushed the idea away. What was she thinking? It was his left hand, she registered. Was there a difference between that and his prosthetic one? She'd never thought to look.

Unaware of Mara's impudent thoughts Luke continued to regard the unconscious girl on the bed. "Did you know that she once destroyed an entire space station with a single detonator?"

Mara looked up. What the hell was he talking about?

"Bannistar Station, three years ago. All of us got caught except Deena and one other guy, Basso. She had one detonator left and was pushed into a corner. But she kept her head cool and threw the detonator into a fuel tank. The entire station was burning in minutes. Distracted the Imperials and we got away. She always talked about it as her 'lucky shot'. On a good day she compared it with my destroying the Death Star but most of the time she insisted it was just a lucky chance and that anyone would have done the same in her situation. I always told her that she was selling herself short." Luke shook his head. "She could be anything if she just believed in herself, but she keeps telling herself she's close to nothing."

Mara stared in disbelief at the blond head on the pillow. Deena with her voluminous love life, her weight problems, her chitter chatter and her complaints about her old man. Was it really this girl who'd destroyed Bannistar's mighty fuel station, the key to the Empire's expansions Spinward and Rimward? Mara had problems imagining Deena even on a combat mission.

But then...didn't Deena have the same problem? Wasn't that why she'd transferred back to supplies? Which signals had Mara been reading? Reality – or Deena's own belittling perceptions of herself? To think – Mara Jade, Emperor's Hand, trained to notice everything surrounding her, had simply taken Deena Shan's self-descriptions for the truth without bothering to dig at all. What had happened to her objectivity?

"Maybe that's true for more people than one might think," she murmured, lost in thought.

Luke turned to look at her, something in her voice calling his attention. All the sharpness was gone from Mara Jade's voice, the tension and excitement having wiped her shielding layers away for a moment. He saw a hardened, rough-used creature beside him, one who'd never been prepared to let anyone in – and who was surprised that it had happened anyway. An unexpected warmth spread in Luke as he watched the woman beside him, and he smiled softly. She wasn't much more than a girl herself. Couldn't really be older than Deena - or Luke himself for that part - and suddenly he knew that his first impression, the decision to take her along, the impulse to trust her, had been right. He sensed again that there was so much more in this woman than she knew of herself. Just as it had been in Han, in Deena, just as there had been in himself. Or, as she just had pointed out, as there was in everybody, really. Sitting here, for the first time really sensing her without any alarm or noise or shamming, he felt strangely attuned to precisely Mara's hidden resources. If she only…

Mara became suddenly aware that Skwalker was watching her, a strange expression in his face. She straightened up, slamming her shields back in place. "What are you staring at?" she snapped.

He actually recoiled at that. "I… just... reflected on what you said." He gave her a confused look. "Uh, I agree, actually."

Mara felt her cheek heat and hoped it was just another burn. What was wrong with her? She had better self-control than this! She was here to gain Skywalker's confidence, and that wasn't going to work if she kept biting his nose off all the time. It was just that he had looked at her so closely, she had almost felt his mind touching hers. And while this wasn't the first time, this time she had completely forgotten to shield. Yet another stupid mistake – if Skywalker found out something about her…

Luke turned his attention back to Deena, suddenly ashamed for focusing on someone else in this moment. "Well," he muttered. "I'm so glad you reached her in time. I really am!"

"I guess we all are," Mara commented a bit stiffly but recognizing the common ground he offered. "Do you think we should inform her fiance? Corin? You know him, don't you?"

Luke nodded. "Yeah, we've met. And you're right. I'll contact thim and make sure he doesn't get too scared. Too-onebee told me she'll be fine. But it will take some time before she can leave, apparently it's a lengthy affair to reconstruct the nerves that the dactylid wrecked. "

Mara hesitated. She had a strange feeling – and she wondered whether Skywaker had it too. "How do you think the fire started?"

He started to say something, then held back and turned to look at her, his entire stance suddenly changing. "You think it was arson." It wasn't a question.

Mara felt her face heat again. "Blast it Jedi, stay out of my mind!"

Again he flinched, taken aback by her fierce reaction. "Sorry, I…"

Mara forced herself to calm down again. "I recall I was asking _you_! What can you sense?"

He was frowning at her now, a spark of indignation lit in his eyes at her barking one moment and asking him to reveal his observations the next. He held his temper however, watching her closely, no doubt investigating her with the Force too. "If this really was arson, then it's not news everyone needs to hear."

"Yeah, and if you think I'm going to run off and discuss it with every tech I don't know, then by all means don't tell me." Mara shrugged. Perhaps it was a big mistake to mention her premonitions with Skywalker – if it _was_ sabotage she would technically be on the perpetrator's side, after all. On the other hand, her mission was to gain the trust of the Jedi, and this was a perfect opportunity as they seemed to face a common threat.

He held her gaze a moment longer, then his eyes narrowed, became distant. "I sense an ill will," he finally acknowledged. "A ruthless mind behind all this destruction."

Mara's heart jumped at that. That was the same feeling she'd had, more vague, wordless, but his choice of words fit perfectly. "I can't believe it was spontaneous either," she told him. "Too many system malfunctions; open doors, no emergency systems, no alarms… And the fire must have started _inside_ the plastifoam container…"

"Why do you think that?" Luke's frown deepened.

"Deena showed me around Supply some time ago and I pointed out to them the danger about those containers." Mara made a face, resentment frothing up at the memory. "I actually stood there and warned them, dammit! Warned them that plastifoam is dangerous if is starts melting and they told me 'why would it start melting?'!"

She shook her head in frustration. "Well, normally it doesn't - unless it's in close contact with high temperatures for a longer time. And they pointed out to me that there wasn't exactly anything else that would start burning in the warehouse. So that's why I take it the fire must have started _inside_ a barrel. And once the first barrels took fire it spread fast."

Luke frowned. "But how could the fire start inside a container unless some one broke into it?"

Mara shrugged. "How should I know? Perhaps someone did? But there are materials that can self ignite, some of them even commonly used. Some hypergolic fuels for example."

"Hypergolic fuels are very toxic and never stored near one another before they are loaded on a ship. There are other compounds that can self-ignite, but not under normal conditions."

Mara shrugged again. "Then something was abnormal – maybe a catalytic reaction."

He actually smiled at that; her logic absolutely clear but bolder than most. "I'll speak to Intel," he told her. "Meanwhile, I think you should go and get some sleep. You look like you need it. _I_ would if it was me."

"Right," Mara made a face. She rose to leave but her tired body punished her for the sudden movement with sending her head spinning and she had to stretch her arm out to steady herself. Of course the nearest thing she happened to grab was Skywalker's arm and he was quick to put the other one around her waist, his expression worried.

Mara took a deep breath and hurried to disentangle. "Don't you even," she growled, holding up her hand to put some distance between them. "I'm walking out of here on my own two feet, dammit!"

He had the decency to look appropriately repentant even if she got a dreadful feeling that he was silently sputtering with laughter. "Of course you are."

He backed and gave her room to pass. Mara lift her chin as high as she dared and passed him slowly, trying to hold on to her pride as best she could but feeling more like one of those insufferable airheaded concubines at court. She _had_ to get better control of her temper!

Skywalker kept his mouth shut until she was by the door, then spoke, voice thick with suppressed amusement. "But by all means, com me if you change your mind, ok?"

Mara actually snorted at that, all too able to see herself from his point of view and not missing the comedy of the situation. But no way she'd turn around to share the fun with him. Pulling herself together, she left the medbay head high and without a glance back.


	15. Chapter 15

**Quagmire - Chapter 15 **

**The Emperor's Hand**

Deena was in for a prolonged visit to the medbay but Mara was back on job already two days after the fire. Of course, the first thing she did was run into Skywalker. "Congratulations. I heard they bumped you up to Tech Second Class," he told her, the slightest of amused smiles curling his mouth.

She had in fact received a note to that effect. The formal ceremony would be held tomorrow. Such a fast pace indicated that the ranking Rebel officers were impressed with her, but Mara hadn't exactly clapped her hands. "Wonderful. Terrific. Just what I've always wanted."

Luke grinned at her. "Are you telling me that wasn't the reason you went into the fire; to soar to the rank of second class in the Alliance Forces?"

Mara rolled her eyes. "I should have stopped to bargain first. That was worth a First Class. At the very least."

Those blue eyes got an odd, warm glow to them and his smile broadened to embarrassing dimensions. "You're right. It was!"

Clearly, she couldn't have picked a better scheme than a one-woman rescue mission into a roaring inferno to obtain Skywalker's trust – but did he have to look at her like that? Like they'd shared something rare… "Anything else?" she demanded tersely. "I'm already late for my shift."

He shook his head, smiling, remaining as infuriatingly impossible to insult as ever. "No. Sorry. I won't keep you, then."

She hurried on while pondering like mad what that last expression of his had suggested? He had no reason to find her amusing, had he?

...

"_Of course_ I know that bhuta oil self-ignites if there is too much methane in the air! I wasn't produced last year. But I'm quite sure those things have nothing to do with each other." See-Threepio wriggled his arms in annoyance as he followed his counterpart down one of the less traffic-jammed corridors of _Home One_'s massive bulk. The small droid in the lead turned and beeped an objection.

"Artoo Deeto, will you _please_ stop playing detective?" Were all astromechs so nosy? Threepio hoped not, or it would be a wonder the galaxy was still spinning. He certainly was sure the majority of them weren't this impertinent.

Artoo whistled a counter-question and Threepio's golden torso tilted in the droid equivalent of an exasperated sigh. "Yes, I can very _well_ see that a droid could have access to the area but why would it start a leak in the methane container? We are programmed to maintain, not to destroy."

The astromech warbled an explanation so long it nearly overran even Threepio's extremely capable circuits_. _Nearly."Well, I supposed that is possible... But you forget that there was whole _series_ of malfuncions. The detectors didn't raise the alarm about that leak, the doors didn't work properly, the alarm was inoperative… "

His squat companion, of course, already had an explanation ready and Threepio listened to his twitter, sensors beginning to overload. "Several droids? Now, I have never! You make it sound like a mutiny!"

Artoo, anything but discouraged, trilled on with more details about spies and droids and reprogramming. Threepio did his best to follow for a while, then gave up in favour of an overbearing interruption. "Well, technically speaking I suppose that's correct - but that doesn't make you right! Just because it takes only one person to re-program them it doesn't mean that was what happened." He adopted what he decided was a very solemn tone. "Artoo Deetoo, you're making severe accusations on very loose ground."

Artoo beeped a rather cheeky objection and Threepio snapped. "Well, if you are going to continue to pursue this mindless quest, it will be without me. I've had enough of it." He straightened to his full height, turned and marched away, every inch of his gleaming humanoid frame broadcasting indignation.

The small astromech watched his retreat, chirruping to itself a few moments, then turned on its sockets and determinedly started towards Supply.

. . .

Hours later, her shift over, Mara's true work that day was only beginning. She had decided to play a hunch that had followed her since that evening in the Chaos and she had no idea how it would fall out. She might be risking everything, and she might gain… in fact she had no idea at all what she might gain except a possible satisfaction that she was right.

Whatever the result proved to be, she had decided to find out now.

Shira Brie failed to conceal her surprise when she found Mara outside her hatch. But she regained her composure quickly and stepped back, allowing Mara to come in. "So? Mara Jade, isn't it? What brings me the honor?" Her expression was a study in courtesy already.

Mara quickly scanned the cabin and noted that despite being a commander endowed with a cabin of her own, Brie's quarters were far from fancy, and nothing by far compared to an Imperial officer's. "It's a personal matter," she offered curtly. She sat without waiting for invitation and turned the chair to face Brie.

The other woman seated herself on the bunk and eyed her easily. "Ah. Then I know why – it's about Skywalker."

Mara frowned impatiently. "No, it's not." She decided to go straight to the matter, not least since Brie also had already dropped the chit-chat. "Do the words Hapspir and Barrini mean anything to you?"

Shira Brie's eyes widened and she opened her mouth as to say something, but closed it again. This time too, she regained her composure quickly and when she spoke there was already a slight, challenging smile in her face. "Probably as much as the words Corbolan and Triaxis mean to you."

This time it was Mara's turn to catch her breath. _That minx knew…! But how? _

"I'm astonished," she stated dryly. "You know the complete code. How?"

"Simple. Because I'm authorized to use it myself."

"Authorized by who?" This didn't make sense and Mara realized she was grabbing the armsrests for support. She had an uncanny feeling of almost losing the very control she'd come here to gain, almost like when she'd been fifteen and drinking too much ambrostine for the first time…

Brie arched her eyebrows at that, her expression nettlingly unruffled. "By the only one whose authority it is to give; his Majesty the Emperor."

Mara felt a cold surge in her stomach. It couldn't be! The woman was lying. It was _her_ code! _Mara's_ code and hers alone because _she_ was the Emperor's Hand and there was no other Hand, couldn't be…

"You're saying there are two Hands?" she heard herself ask, and wondered over the absolute calm of her voice. It didn't sound like her whole world was threatening to fall apart. Of course it didn't; her world was still standing because Brie was lying, barefaced, obviously, trying to fool her for some reason. Maybe she was a double agent and…

Brie was still smirking that impenetrable, self-assured smirk of hers. "That would have some anatomical justification, wouldn't it? But no. I'm saying there are many Hands. I have no number but I know of at least three apart for myself. And now I can add you to the list." She leaned back on the bunk, supporting herself on one arm as she tilted her head, a curious glint in her eyes. "You didn't know?"

Mara's brain raced at lightspeed. Perhaps there was some sort of logical explanation? Of course. Had to be. She just needed to... Reflexively she avoided the question, knowing that about any answer would reveal weakess. "I don't make a habit of revealing what my Master has shared with me." _Another Hand_…? Her Master couldn't…couldn't have…

Brie shrugged. "Of course not, that's his privilege. Some things he tells, some thing he doesn't. _He_ alone knows everything, we are just his tools. Maybe he didn't trust you with the knowledge, or maybe he wanted you to feel special for some reason. I don't know. Caf? Or something stronger?"

"Something stronger." She needed it for sure.

.

"You came from Jabba's, right? What was your mission there?"

To Mara's annoyance it was suddenly Brie who was asking the questions, Mara herself still struggling with coming to terms with the revelation. Never had she been so put out of course, so completely unsure of how to handle a situation. And the fact that she was having to wrestle with all this in Brie's company irked her even more.

"It's not yet accomplished," Mara retorted somewhat stiffly. No way she'd reveal her mission, at least not before she'd had all of this confirmed by her Master. She sipped the glass of Ithorian brandy she'd been offered and had to admit, much to her chagrin, that it was of excellent quality.

Brie nodded knowingly. "Meaning your target is still alive, meaning you followed him here. And as your target sure wasn't Solo, Calrissian or the Wookiee that leaves the Princess or Luke. My guess is Luke since the Princess wouldn't be worth that much trouble."

"She's number three on the Empire's most wanted list."

"Sure she is, but we both know that if our Master _really_ had bothered, he could have had her killed ages ago. My guess is that he wants to leave her standing as a rallying point until he can crush the Rebellion with one strike. The last thing he wants is the Rebellion splitting into decentralized cells."

That made sense, of course. Mara's eyes narrowed in concideration but Brie continued, "Then it might interest you that Skywalker is my target as well."

That didn't make sense. "Your object is to kill him?"

"Preferably to discredit him. To ruin his reputation by creating rifts between him and the rest of the Alliance. The ultimate goal is to ruin his life and by that goad him to serve our Master when the time is ready. It has been a while since I was updated, though." She looked with curiosity at Mara. "Was your mission simply to kill him?"

"Those were my original orders," Mara admitted reluctantly. "But when I fa… Well, they changed. For time being I've been ordered to maintain a low profile while I infiltrate. I expect the orders to kill him will come any day, however."

The other woman took a swig from her glass. "You have your orders straight from our Master, then?"

"Of course. Don't you?"

Shira shook her head, her dark red hair swirling. "I am, should we say it – lent out. My mission answers to Lord Darth Vader and it was his initiative as well. It's him I've been communicating with, those times I've had the chance of doing so." She shifted on the bunk, tugging one leg in under the other to make herself more comfortable.

"You don't communicate with our Master at all?" Mara was awkwardly aware that her palms were moist. She tried to run a few calming breaths but it was hard to do without Brie noticing it.

"How could I? It's hard enough to contact Lord Vader. Naturally, I will report to our Master when the mission is completed. I'm _his_ servant, Vader's just an intervention."

Mara calmed a little, feeling a silent surge of relief. Apparantly Brie couldn't hear their Master's voice through the Force as Mara could. She might call herself a Hand but she clearly wasn't as close to their Master as Mara was.

She swirled the liquor in her glass, studying its amber hue and sniffing the aroma while she chewed at the information. However, curiosity made her break the silence again; a question she'd wondered about for a long time burned on her lips. "How can it be that Skywalker hasn't realized your abilities? Shouldn't he be able to notice that you're Force sensitive?"

Shira shrugged. "First reason: he's far too polite to be probing into people's minds without a reason. Sweet but stupid of him - practical for us. Second: he's too naive to think he'd _have_ a reason - unless it's smacked against his face - and whatever his teacher has taught him it's not suspicion. Third: at the moment he's too filled up with his own problems and fears at present to really pay attention to warnings from the Force. Fourth: even if he would suspect someone around to have evil intentions he wouldn't expect me, for let's say, 'natural' reasons." She flexed her buxom body with a self-conscious smile,

Mara forced herself to ignore the ridiculously enormous ego of the other woman. "You said he has problems. What kind of problems?" she enquired instead. _Dammit, relax, Jade!_ She was as tense as a trainee on the _Executor_.

There was a provoking glint in Brie's eyes. "I _knew _you were really here to talk about Skywalker."

Mara squeezed her glass, not able to ignore a fresh surge of irritation that shot up in her. If that conniving little maneater thought she was after the Jedi…

Brie smiled and shrugged again. As she sat on the bunk, she appeared utterly charming, alarmingly natural and exquisitely sweet. Her next words, uttered lightly with that pleasant, musical voice didn't exactly correspond with the impression. "Luke has a preposterously low self esteem. He doubts himself constantly, both his observations and his abilities. There's more to it, something connected to Lord Vader, but so far I haven't been able to sniff out the details. My plan is to make him so doubtful of himself that he'll at some point become suspicious of the Force too. When I manage that, he'll be an easy fruit to pick."

Some of that fitted with Mara's own observations and impressions but some of it seemed far too simplified. She narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean by _you're_ making him doubtful of himself? And how do you know these things?"

"I'm dream-sensitive. I can see into people's fears and dreams and to a great extent I'm able to feed their fright by influencing them in their sleep. I've been doing that with Skywalker for months now, ever since he returned from Bespin. He, no doubt, thinks his hesitations come from his confrontation with Lord Vader and the loss of a hand, but that's only part of the truth. Through me, his fears have become much stronger than they would have otherwise. I also know that he still has some kind of a Jedi business that he needs to undertake, but so far I have been able to confuse him enough not to leave. The moment he realizes that everything isn't _his_ fault, he'll be gone, of course. He's not to be held back when it comes to external dangers. Self-doubt, however, can lame him quite effectively."

Dream-sensitive? Mara had never heard about it, but then she knew so little about the Force. The more pertinent question was, did Brie know as much as she made it sound? "What is he afraid of, then?" She took a sip of her brandy.

"Oh, I haven't been able to pinpoint the specific content of his dreams yet - but I will soon." When she saw Mara's expression, she added, "Dreamcontrol isn't like mindreading, you know: It's elusive and can be extremely unpredictable – and Luke's dreams in particular are like trying to ride a wild bantha. You just have to hang on, control is next to impossible."

"Then how do you figure you're going to find out what he fears?"

"When I've moved things according to my wishes I'll not only become his bed partner but his confidant too. That way I can compensate for his strength in the Force and I will be able to play him after my own head."

Mara tossed her head, far from convinced Brie had her priorities straight. "Really? You need to bed him for that? He seems to be pretty easily-led already."

Shira gave her a warning glance. "You say that because he's so open and obliging. Don't be mistaken. He's a piece of cake - to a certain point. After that, he's completely immovable and unyielding, believe me! I've been working on him for months and together with him for even longer. It's no accident that he's the great hero around here. I've been doing my best to encourage anti-Jedi sentiments wherever I find them, , but his reputation is still untarnished in Alliance High Command. His closest brothers-in-arms still have unwavering faith in him – and for good reason. And despite all my efforts, Luke's the only one around here who doesn't eat from my hand – him and the Princess, that is, but she doesn't like me because she's jealous."

Mara knew other people who surely didn't like Brie, but she'd save that jibe for later. "Jealous?" she questioned instead. "Is Organa jealous of your interest in Skywalker? But she and Solo…?"

Brie snorted with contempt. "Luke worships the ground she walks on. No other girl has had a chance since he joined the Rebellion because of her. And that suits Her Highness well. If she could keep Luke from me by sleeping with him behind Solo's back she would, believe me, but Luke's too righteous for those kinds of tricks and she knows it. By choosing Solo, the Princess could have them both. That was what she thought anyway." She lifted her chin casually, not bothering to disguise how pleased she was with herself. "She can't stand that I came along and caught his interest. And she knows she's losing the game."

Mara took in her colleague, not for the first time; her engaging face perched on that long stylish neck, her vivacious charm and her curvacious body. Reluctantly, she had to admit that Brie would be a terrible competitor to anyone. However, Mara didn't buy her characterization of Organa for a second - and she still didn't understand why Brie seemed to make such a hard effort in order to bed her target. "So, it's you and Skywalker then, huh?"

"It will be. Does that bother you?"

"Of course not. Why should it?"

A strange smile curled the corners of Brie's mouth. "Well, he's such a nice guy, always righteous and earnest. The kind of guy who you never meet around the court , not even on Coruscant. A guy who wants to devote himself to a woman; marry her and raise children…"

Mara snorted. "Never met a brat I liked. Never slept with the same man twice either. What interests me about you and Skywalker is whether it's all about strategy or are you counting on having some fun yourself?"

The other woman took a sip of her brandy and gave her an indulgent glance over the glass. "You mark my words, girl. Luke Skywalker is going to make it up to me for not having a proper day off since I infiltrated this kriffing Rebellion two years ago." She smiled a predatory smile. "And believe me, he will."

"So sure?" Mara did her best to ignore a strange knot in her stomach.

Brie smiled - a slow, vicous smile. "Oh yes, I'm sure. He will be mine, and I know that he'll be devoted enough to give in completely when he finally falls. And that will make it up. The sweetest making up you can possibly imagine."

"Well he's handsome if you like them cute, but he doesn't look like a sex god to me." Mara gulped down the rest of her brandy and sat the glass down a bit harder than she'd intended.

"Oh, he has it in him. And I will bring it out."

The woman sounded utterly sure of herself and it disturbed Mara more than she suspected it should. It also provoked her to no end. "Well good luck with that. But I've been here nearly a month and I've seen no progress."

"That's all part of the plan. I'm not interested in anyone seeing it. The more odd and insular Luke seems to everyone, the better. But there's been plenty of progress, believe me. I was in his squad earlier and it took some time before I realized that he'd never sleep with a subordinate, he's way too dutiful for that. And that low self-esteem of his is a hindrance too - deep down he doesn't dare to believe that I'm really interested." Brie shrugged. "But that's irrelevant. All the major pieces are in place, just a few details left to finalize."

"Like his co-operation?" Mara just couldn't help herself.

Brie bristled at that, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "I can catch any man anyway I want, Jade, and when I need your advice I'll tell you."

Mara's temper flared, but she was still too much on strange ground to start an argument here and now. That didn't mean she agreed, though. She glared but kept her voice even. "He's a Jedi," she pointed out. "They're not easily fooled."

Brie shook her head. "He's not a Jedi. Not yet."

Mara paused, unsure. Skywalker had been a first class fumbler in the rancor pit all right, but he _had _survived, and in contrast, his performance above the Pit of Carkoon had been most convincing. She waited to hear the other woman out before tossing out her own opinion.

Shira continued. "He's got some training, even of late, though I don't know by whom and don't know how that even has been possible, but I've never seen him doing more than a few, simple tricks. His intuition when he's in danger is superb, and he's a wonder of a pilot, but that's about it."

"And when you say 'a few tricks' you mean…?" Mara tried a hunch and reached out subtly with the Force, just as she'd done the other evening in the Chaos. Brie was still unreadable, but not as definitely as she'd been then – there was a hazy blur now, an air of contempt, gloating even, that she could detect.

"Some levitation, danger sense, exctraordinary reflexes. He's even pretty good with a lightsaber by now, I think. All of that makes him exceptional and outstanding as a soldier, but still nothing of what I know real Jedi were able do."

"Perhaps he's got more abilities than he has knowledge of how to use them?"

"Probably. But the point is still; don't overestimate him. So far he hasn't even tried mind reading, I would bet all my credits on that." Brie changed subject. "So, between colleagues; do you have a quick and reliable way to get information out?"

"I do," Mara admitted curtly, quickly deciding that she wouldn't give away that she actually could communicate with their Master.

Brie, however, wasn't asking for specifics. "Then you could get this out – and feel quite free to refer to my code name, _Lumiya_ – there will be a rescue mission launching to Bothan space within two weeks – Vrock Sai'men - a big fish to the Rebels, big enough to risk some of their elite warriors shortly before a battle in order to get him out of Imperial hands."

Mara almost, _almost_ asked her whether she was sure and where she had gotten the information, but then held her mouth and simply nodded. "You know anything about their strategy?" she asked casually, suddenly remembering the mission Brie had mentioned in the Chaos the other day. _So Brie's going to Bothan space with Skywalker_.

The other woman shrugged. "They'll be carrying gravity convertors, modulated to pocket size, and use them to surprise the guards. A little trick Skywalker came up with – smart - but only as long as it's unexpected." She smiled indulgently. "Another good thing about being close to him."

Mara had to ask. "Aren't you afraid you might get _too_ close to him.?"

"Hey, we're professionals. Aren't you afraid you get too close to Shan?"

Mara snorted impatiently. That wasn't the same thing. And she wouldn't be _killing_ Deena, she wasn't in her way…

At that, the thought struck her like a lightening and the question was out before she had time to consider. "Did you start the fire in the supply halls?"

"No. Of course not." Brie didn't even blink. Her expression was completely earnest, emotionless - and when Mara reached out she could detect nothing in the Force. Frackin' nothing, just like the other evening.

And she knew – knew with absolute clarity – that it _had_ been Shira Brie who'd ignited the fire on third deck. A cold chill run down Mara's spine and she couldn't help wondering whether Brie's intention had been to make an inroad into the supplies of the Rebels...or simply a failed attempt to get rid of an old rival on her way to Skywalker's bed.

. . .

Back in her cabin, cubicle firmly closed around her, Mara finally allowed her composure to break. Sagging down on her bunk she closed her eyes, burying her head into the flat pillow, wishing she could close her eyes from her entire life and just stay buried here, stay here until some mighty Star Destroyer came by and blasted this ship to atoms. Then she could float around in space together with all the other small atoms, tiny little rebel atoms, not a care in the world, not a decision left to make…

For a long time one thought only filled her head, rambling and roaming like an incensed reek let free. _No! It can't be! She must have been lying – there _has_ to be an explanation!_

The very thought that there was another Emperor's Hand, that she, Mara, wasn't her Master's most special servant, that her Master had actually had been _lying_ to her about this one fact so vital to her, made everything else fade away, that one tormenting thought filling her completely. She desperately clung to every excuse and explanation she could muster, yet she already knew, deep down with a crushing, crumbling coldness that this her battle was lost already before it had started, that Brie had, in this at last, been telling the truth. Because if she'd been lying, then nothing made sense. But if she had told the truth, then everything made sense – it was only Mara's world that had stopped, ended, turned upside down.

The next thought was not nearly as laming but equally sickening. If there was another Hand, then why _her_? Why _Brie_? That woman belonged in an Outer Rim cabaret, not amongst the Emperor's elite servants!

But if Brie was so undeserving… what was Mara then?

Slowly, slowly, as minutes turned to hours, the mindlessly shrieking terror, the thousands of questions and avoidances that filled her free-falling, spiraling mind stilled. One single thought remained, demanding, screaming for action.

She had to _ask_ him!

Yet, how could she? Contact him and confront him? Like she had the right! No one did that to the Emperor. _No one_.

But the need to know grew too strong, an almost childlike yearning to learn the truth directly from the Master gaining strength from a desperate, naive hope that he'd forgive her, just like he after all had this far.

And he was there as she reached out, the contact imminent, making her gasp for air, overwhelmed, exalted, as always.

"_I hear you, child. What news from the Rebel Base?"_

Mara gathered all her resolve but it still wasn't enough to go straight to the matter. _"A few days ago a fire on supply deck caused damage to both people and personnel here, my Master. I believe the fire was intentionally set."_

The contact was quiet for a moment, and for a few, chilling seconds Mara thought she'd lost it completely already, then her Master returned, his voice dry in her head. _"That would be hardly surprising, my Hand. You are on a Rebel ship – and you are not my only agent."_ The answer – and his complete lack of interest – sent a cold shiver down Mara's spine and she had to push herself in order to continue.

"_I'm aware of that Master, and I have also recognized one of them: Shira Brie, coded_ Lumiya."

For the fraction of a heartbeat she could feel the contact freeze again and she realized that she had for once caught her Master on the raw. _He never expected I'd find out!_

Then her Master continued, _"Indeed, child? So...I am left to determine whether this is due to your skillfulness - or my other agent's fault?"_

A sudden urge to discredit Brie rose in Mara; she didn't like the woman one bit, she was mad at her for trying to kill Deena, and the very idea that Brie might be as trusted a servant as Mara herself twisted her gut like a vibroknife. Still, she couldn't tell lies. She had to hold on to truth and make clear what was her views and and what was fact.

"_It was through no fault of Agent Brie,"_ she admitted. _"I suspect it was I who knew what to look for."_

Her Master was silent, waiting, and Mara could hold back no longer, pain and desperation flooding though her.

"_But I don't understand, Master,"_ she almost pleaded. _"She knows the codes, she claims to be your Hand, but I thought _I_ was… Your Hand. Your only Hand."_

She was well aware that she was teetering on the border of the unforgivable, yet, surely her Master understood why? No doubt he must be able to feel her anxiety, based on her unwavering loyalty?

Again the Emperor was silent for a long time; the close connection resonating through Mara like an icy breath; what if she had crossed the line? She had already failed her Master once and he had forgiven her; now she might sound as if she dared question his judgement.

Yet, when he spoke, his voice in her mind was surprisingly indulgent. _"I sense your fear, child, and I realize how it is crippling you. Tell me, Mara Jade, what is it that you fear? You know my Empire is vast and my needs infinite. Are you denying me the help of other servants?"_

An almost-laughter escaped her, sudden relief flooding through her. How his mind was always sharp, his perspective so much larger than her own! And he forgave her this…this childishness, was there any other word for it? _"No Master. Of course not. I'm sorry."_

"_I have many agents, child, and need has dictated that I have many Hands as well. You yourself, being my First Hand, showed me the efficiency of your function. You, however, cannot be everywhere, and other servants have shown themselves useful as well. But no one else can hear my command through the galaxy like you do and indeed, no one did I name myself as I named you. You are my most loyal and trusted servant, like a daughter to me since childhood."_

Mara's heart leaped. This was…She had never even dared to hope…

The Emperor's voice switched to business again, losing its overbearing, confidential warmth. _"Now, tell me child. How is your assimilation among the Rebels proceeding? Have you come close to Skywalker?"_

Mara was quickly brought back to realities and her mission. And of course, she couldn't pride herself in just being able to pop by Skywalker's cabin yet – not without rising suspicion. _"I can get close very quickly, Master. I have befriended one of his old friends and speak with him regularly."_

She could sense his deprecations rise and hurried to explain. _"I've been moving mostly among technicians and in lower ground circles, Master. I didn't want to approach Skywalker too obviously since…"_

Displease flooded through their bond. _"Remember he's a Jedi. To be able to act you must be close."_

"_One of them I've befriended is Skywalker's former girlfriend, Master. They are still on close terms. She is my key to him; both when comes to information and trust. Skywalker is very concerned and protective about his friends; and he's naive to believe that anyone they choose as friend is trustworthy too. Besides, I saved her life in the fire, which has increased my stock with the Rebels and especially with Skywalker."_

Her Master pondered this for a moment, then let the subject pass. _"Very well… How is Agent Brie proceeding?"_

Mara tried to suppress her contempt. _"She is hitting on Skywalker, Master. So far without success…"_

"_No success at all?"_

"_Well, they had a date at the mess the other night…"_

"_I see. Good..."_ Her Master sounded alarmingly appreciative. _"One certainly cannot fault Agent Brie for her… generosity and devotion to her cause."_

"_Master, _Mara returned petulantly,_ I don't think it's self-sacrifice at all, I think she finds him attractive."_

"_And you don't, Mara Jade?"_

Now she was taken aback. Was her Master insinuating…? _"I don't believe I need to be intimate with him in order to come close enough to kill him. __Giving him the impression of intimacy which is a complete lie in my opinion endangers the mission__."_

"_You speak of what you know little, my Hand. How many targets have you snared to your bed in order to kill them?"_

"_None, Master, I have always been capable to kill them without."_

"_And how many of them were Jedi?"_

"_None, but…"_

"_Jedi have one weakness and that is their compassion - and Luke Skywalker is no exception from that rule. The closer you are, the more blinded he will become. Do I really have to remind you, Mara Jade, that you have already failed me once in this matter?"_

Mara swallowed hard. The rebuke stung, no - burned! _"Do you wish me to seduce Skywalker, my Master?"_

There was a silence as the Emperor considered her words. _"No, my Hand. At least, not yet. As things are, you might trip Agent Lumiya up, not that I don't trust her to be very…skilfull in this aspect. But I want you to start considering the possibility, to start imagining yourself as Skywalker's mistress. If you are the least attracted to him, he will be able to sense it, and if Agent Brie should fail in regard to the larger picture you will be in a position to move forward."_

Mara tried to smooth out her hurt pride. Did her Master find Brie a better seductress than Mara? Wasn't that what he was saying? She grabbed another lifeline her master had offered. _"The larger picture, Master?"_

There was a distinct cold in their bond now. _"Stay with your orders, child. Do you think you can manage that?"_

Mara swallowed hard."_Yes, Master."_

"_And your orders are clear? You will remain among the Rebels for now. Stay low. Give Agent Brie space to maneuver but place yourself strategically just behind the scene."_

"_Yes, Master."_

Reprimanded and ashamed, she suddenly remembered what Brie had asked her to relay. _"One more thing, Master. Brie told me the Rebels are planning to rescue a spy called Vrock Sai'men from the Bothan sector in two weeks time. She's sure they will use portable gravity convertors to carry this out."_

Much to her resentment, her Master seemed to take interest in Brie's vague intelligence. _"Portable gravity convertors? Interesting… The Rebels have never lacked for originality. This is useful information indeed…"_ He paused for a moment and when he spoke again she could hear his mind was on this new knowledge. "_We will speak again, my Hand, when you or Agent Brie have news._"

Mara lay still for a long while afterwards, recovering from the pain and numbness that always followed the closing of their connection. Dulled to endure it since childhood as she was, she wasn't surprised at the pain - this time, however, she was more surprised by how distant she felt. For the first time in her life, she didn't feel refreshed and focused after communicating with her Master but was instead more confused than ever, choppy waves of the shock earlier this day still pulsating through her.

And despite the soothing words of her Master, she could not suppress the crumbling feeling she was left with – he had lied to her! No matter how he had laid his words, whatever his needs might be, he had lied to her, deludedher, indisputably. He had named her His Hand, always steering her to believe that she was his chosen emissary, the only one. Instead he had kept her in the dark and by that actually showed her less confidence than his other servants. Had he only told her of his needs and plans she would have complied without a second thought, always apt and attentive to his service… She felt exploited, abused.

Mara rolled on to her back, a thousand excuses on her Master's behalf running through her pained mind, all of them too light to stick. The fact remained; he had used her.

And with that fact something vital in her, in her self-understanding, in her entire esteem of herself had changed, cracked. Her very existence had always been built up on her Master and on her service to him, who she was, her abilities, her aim in life. Now, that she clearly wasn't what she'd thought she was... What was she now?

She lay still for hours, staring into the darkness of her cubicle while this slowly digested in her mind. Well, she was still his Hand, wasn't she? He had told her that himself, had praised her and lifted her up over the others, yet... Despite her Master's initial, laudatory words, she now knew herself only to be a tool, not the Trusted Servant. Not anymore.

Another disappointment that should have been minor but that nonetheless stung like hell was the fact that Her Master had believed _Shira Brie_ more capable of seducing Skywalker than herself. It was even more nagging since Mara herself knew this to be the truth. Through her career, she had seduced men on regular basis, but in most cases that had been in order to access or place information and in the few cases she had involved with a target she had managed to kill them before the act.

What Shira Brie planned, however, was much more hard core. She wasn't only intending to seduce Skywalker for a short night in order to kill him in his sleep, she was working herself into a position where she would be his mistress, where she would share bed and life with him, become his confidant, his mate, day after day, night after night... and then... kill him. Just like that. Was she made completely out of stone or was she simply a fool? To belive that she could live with a man and yet leave her inner self completely free from touch? Mara knew she couldn't do it herself, not without detesting herself for the rest of her life - her very core balked at it.

On the other hand, wouldn't she do it too, if her Master required it? Hadn't he basically required it already? She wasn't exactly in a therapy business. Self detest was an occupational risk. You could survive if you were lucky, but no one survived intact, not without deep wounds, scars never to heal…

A woman in her job couldn't allow herself petty argumentation like this. – _A woman in her job_. And there it was – right there – the cause of the pain that ripped through her entire being right now. She wasn't unique anymore. Whatever her Master had said to maintain loyalty, she knew it was just that – a means to an end. Mara had skills he needed, some of them unique, and her Master still needed them. But that was it.

Well, she would not disappoint him. Whether she had thought too highly of herself or not, it was still he who had made her to… whatever she was. And whatever she was, she wasn't one to fail him.

Mara's jaw hardened. She wasn't one who failed.


	16. Chapter 16

I admit freely I feel a little shaky to post this chapter. I hope I still have any readers left after it... ;-P

Please hang on - and feel free to roast me in you reviews instead

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****Quagmire - Chapter 16**

**Broken resistance**

"I wonder what my old man would say, if he saw me now?"

Mara made a vague sound, leaning back on the uncomfortable chair by the bad – _why did medbays always have uncomfortable chairs?_ - knowing Deena was about to bring the hammer down on her own head. She always did when she got onto the subject of 'her old man.' He was the only thing that could crack her nearly invincible optimism – but then it was with a vengance.

"He used to say I've never been able to stay out of trouble. 'Trouble comes to trouble,' he'd say." Deena sighed and picked at her bed linen.

"You should stop quoting him," Mara countered. She was already starting to regret visiting Deena today. Four days after the fire, the Etti girl was exactly well enough to start to get annoying but still too ill to leave the medbay, her nervous system still in an aggravatingly protracted treatment from the polydactylic gas. Too-onebee predicted she would have to stay in the medbay for at least another week.

"It's not that easy…" Deena stared blankly into the wall for long minutes. "Not for me anyway... I don't know how you do it, being so independent and self-reliant. You must have had wonderful, encouraging parents."

"I never knew my parents," Mara's heart almost stopped at her own words. Was she really telling someone about her background? That was a completely new road; she had never, _never_ told anyone about her parents! Not in any of those carefully selected stories that she'd oozed out to Deena had she even once mentioned anything about them. Not that there was much to tell; she hardly knew anything herself.

Deena looked at her with renewed curiosity. "Why's that?"

Mara shrugged. "I lost them. When I was very small, I don't know what happened to them. I was raised by… a man who found me. He knew my parents distantly, I think. I don't remember them anymore." She frowned, a wisp of memory nudging the edges of her remembrance. "I only know that I got my hair color from my mother."

"Wow! You did? And your eyes?" Deena propped up on an elbow.

"No idea." Mara bit down, already chiding herself for her slip.

"Haven't you asked him about them?"

"Not really." Mara shrugged again and crossed her arms over her chest. "It doesn't matter anyway. They're dead now, that's all I know, so they can't really do anything about my life anyway. And I don't owe them anything."

Deena's big blue eyes grew even bigger. "Weell… you owe them your birth."

"No, I don't," Mara snapped. Her annoyance surprised even herself. Deena, as usual, didn't take the hint, but continued to stare flummoxed at her so Mara felt pressed to continue, her voice going hoarse for reasons she couldn't pin down**. **"Well, even if they loved each other, then my birth was merely a consequence, nothing more, maybe even an accident. I don't owe them anything. I claim my own destiny. They belong only to the past. Not to my future."

"Ah." Deena didn't look like she really understood, and for once Mara couldn't blame her. She'd been thinking in those tracks all her life, but she had never talked about it and what had always seemed natural and logical to think, sounded obstinate and hollow and even rehearsed when spoken out.

"I don't think Luke would agree with you, you know." Deena sounded thoughtful. "He never knew his parents either but grew up with his aunt and uncle. He kept asking them about his parents all the time. Unfortunately he hardly ever got any answers. And the ones he got obviously were lies; he found that out later. But he's doing everything to bring his past with him to his future."

"Then he's a fool," Mara growled. "He should start living his own life instead of searching for a past that's long gone."

That, at least, came out just the way she meant it.

. . .

Leaving the medbay, Mara felt like a louse. Here she was visiting Deena to cheer her up - but for whose benefit? Who was she trying to impress? Deena wasn't her friend.

Or rather, Deena _was _Mara's friend - but Mara wasn't Deena's, because she'd stab her in the back anytime her Master ordered it. She would, wouldn't she? Hell, she was practically doing it now! Mara wasn't stabbing the back of the woman who'd tried to kill Deena for the single reason that her Master required her not to. Instead she was waiting for orders to stab Deena's good friend Skywalker in the back.

Mara braced herself against the nausea her thoughts provoked. She was, she realized, in the course of this mission constantly going against all the beliefs, all the principles she'd learned. Her Master had always expected devotion and demanded loyalty, yet he had repeatedly warned her from giving it to anyone else. He had taught her awareness, comprehension and insight; he had persistently warned her about empathy. Never before had Mara understood how thin and confusing the line could be between all those emotions. Never before had it been an issue – but suddenly she could hardly distinguish between them. Her Master had asked her to devote herself to serving him and thereby the galaxy, but for the first time the inhabitants of that galaxy, those "lost beings" as her Master had always called them, had forced her to a point where it seemed she must choose between them and her Master at nearly every decision.

Oh, how much easier life was as a simple assassin where you came, killed and left, never breaking stride because of the lowlife you were sent to annihiliate, always convinced you served justice and common benefit. How much easier to be her Master's chosen advocate, to arrive and investigate a matter, deal with it and leave; brain razor sharp, never an emotion involved. Mara had dealt with diplomats and rulers, with officers and soldiers, not to speak of criminals and their victims. Never before had she dealt with ordinary people who were trying in earnest to act on their sense of moral duty. Never had anything so questioned her bone-hard conviction that her Master was right and that all problems in the galaxy could be solved whenever he extended his hand; that any problem, any at all, existed simply because he couldn't be everywhere at the same time.

And the worst thing was, that Mara suspected her sudden, violent feeling of loss wasn't primarily due to her slow understanding of her enemies being as earnest and noble as herself – an inconvenient realization indeed – neither had it anything to do with scruples or changed loyalties. It was simple, selfish, _trivial_ disappointment that she wasn't her Master's one and only Hand.

She snarled at herself that she was being self-centered and childish. Hadn't she just agreed that her Master could not be everywhere at once? No more could she! Her Master had need of _legions _of Hands to administer an Empire of such scope and grandeur. But no matter how sterling her logic, she couldn't shake off her shock; he had lied! Moreover – and she'd finally realized this was the fact which most disturbed her - when faced with his lie, he had failed to acknowledge it.

Too many doubts, too many grey zones. Her sense of right and wrong had become a blur, yet she had no idea how to take that admission to her Master. If she did, she would only tarnish further her fading star in her his eyes. So, what she had to do was grit her teeth, go on, stop reflecting and simply endure. The thing was, though, that Mara had an uncanny fear that if she simply ignored that tiny voice in her head, the voice that told her she was doing wrong on a constant, daily basis now, she might end up like Brie: a pretty, competent shell hiding an emotionless, corrupted creature underneath…

Mara stopped in the middle of the corridor, ignoring the objections as currents of Rebels rushed past. There were still another three hours before her shift and she had no place to go. Her cabin was out of the question, crowded as it always was by giggling and gossiping girls. The very thought of it put a sour taste in her mouth. She could start her shift early, but she had been doing that so much of late that her boss had quietly suggested she take a little more time off. Where on _Home One_ could she find even an ounce of the solitude she so desperately needed?

Ransacking her brain Mara suddenly remembered that she had heard Stubb prattle about a greenhouse – a surprising arrangement on a warship - but then Mon Calamari architecture and thinking continued to amaze Mara. Every so often she actually caught herself admiring their organic and graceful solutions, a delusion she fortunately could break by reminding herself of how many functions on the ship were infuriatingly ill-designed for human hands. But surely a couple of hours in a garden were exactly what she needed?

It took about half an hour of searching before she found the hydroponic garden. Almost in awe she stepped into the green. Lush plants greeted her in a wealth of different shapes, colors, textures, and fragrances. Flower-beds and trees basked in the artificial sunlight, bushes sparkled in an abundance of emerald, amber and deep ruby, stems and branches climbed upwards, twined with strong vines. The air was damp with growth, with the rugged smell of grass and moss and the mild perfume of exotic flowers. A narrow path of terrazzo stones pattered into the thick, green foliage and from somewhere came the blessed sound of softly rippling water. And above that thriving, nourishing vegetation, just visible through the great transiparisteel windows, glittered the stars.

Mara let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Oh, if she'd only found this haven earlier! How many frustrated hours might she have been spared? For a while she strolled around, breathing in the scents and admiring the exuberant display, occasionally bending down to read the names fastened on small plates either to the plant itself or on a sign before it. The flora was all Mon Cal, a fact that brought a smile to her lips – with most of the planet covered in water, perhaps the fish-heads took all the more pride in what terrestrial flora they had.

Mara sighed with pleasure and looked around, searching for a good place to sit down. A few steps ahead there was a bench and… a beep behind her made her whirl around.

An astromech droid squatted a few paces from her, its dome and blinking sensors pointed towards her. It let out a soft tweet that sounded almost like recognition and Mara stared at it in complete confusion. What in the Core's name was an astromech doing in a greenhouse?

Then she recognized it – it was Skywalker's R2 unit. It had to be – there weren't that many R2's around to begin with, the model was so old, and there was something unmistakably expressive about this particular droid.

'_Expressive,' Jade? 'Droid'? _She needed a break even more than she'd thought.

"What are you doing here, shortie?" she demanded. "Don't tell me you're the gardener."

The droid let out a short, clearly negative beep and if it hadn't been so ridiculous Mara would have sworn it was almost offended. It rolled back a meter, turned on its socket and started to roll away. Mara followed it, curious – the little fellow stopped and wheeled back to her, twittering its objections irritably.

Mara didn't pay attention because now she could see the reason why the droid was here.

He was floating in the air only meters from her. His legs were folded under him, like was he sitting in a cross legged position – maybe he had been at some point before he took off – his hands were resting on his thighs, palms turned outward and his eyes were closed. His expression was one of complete tranquility, all lines and furrows smoothed out in his face, leaving only serenity.

Mara stared at him for a few seconds, partly fascinated, partly disgruntled since the Jedi had managed to beat her to this little sanctuary she had already mentally marked as her own. Which had been a stupid thing to do, of course – naturally the entire crew came here once in a while, she had just been lucky to find it relatively desolate. But wasn't it typical that of all the several thousand crew members of _Home One_ only _she_ kept running into Skywalker? If it was the Force at play, it certainly gave her plenty of opportunities to kill him!

She let out an exasperated sigh and turned to leave, the allure of the conservatory gone with the solitude. She hadn't taken more than a couple of steps when Skywalker's voice spoke up. "Mara?"

Mara pivoted and saw the Jedi blinking in confusion, now back on the ground. He looked at her, slightly bewildered but smiling, apparently pleased to see her here. "Hi. It _was_ you. I thought it was but… sorry, I was away for a while." He shrugged with a faint grin and once again it struck Mara how out of place she found his casual attitude towards his own abilities. If this had been the Empire, Skywalker would have been lionized, hailed as some kind of a half-god. Here, however, he obviously did his best to appear as normal as he could.

Only, he wasn't exactly succeeding, and Mara saw no reason why she should support any delusions to the contrary. "_Away_?"she echoed. "Is that what you call it? You were _floating_, do you know that? I mean, if you don't want to fuel every single prejudice people have about the Jedi, then perhaps you should stay dirtside. Sitting cross legged at your age is weird enough as it is. Why don't you keep to your cabin when you have to meditate?"

His eyes widened at her salvo but instead of coming back with an automatic retort he frowned in thought, taking her words in. Mara, already biting her tongue, didn't know what was worse – her constant inability to be civil towards Skywalker, or his infuriating habit of actually listening to her outbursts.

She took a deep breath. "Ok," she began again. "I didn't mean to interrupt. Never mind me. Just go back into orbit. I'm sure the perspective on things from there is enthralling."

She turned to leave again but Skywalker's voice stopped her. "Wait... I… There was something I wanted to tell you, actually. Something different."

Mara turned about, eyes narrow with suspicion. He, of course, looked earnest as ever. "Please, sit down." He nodded towards the bench and changed his own position from cross-legged to something less bizarre.

Mara tiptoed to the bench and sat down gingerly, like was it the bench she was paranoid of and not the company. She definitely was in no mood to be pulled into the Jedi's personal problems, having more than enough of her own at the moment.

Skywalker threw a glance around but they were completely alone. Still he lowered his voice. "It _was_ arson."

Mara already knew that of course, knew it without a shade of doubt, no matter what Brie claimed. But to tell that to Skywalker was completely out of the question. Aloud she said, "How do you know?"

"Intel confirmed it. There had been a coolant leak over several hours – methane – and there was bhuta oil in some of the containers."

Mara let out a whistle. "And the oxygen dissolved in the oil started to combine with the methane – causing spontaneous combustion. Told you," she couldn't resist adding. "But how can they know…"

Luke shook his head. "They checked the data files and found evidence that someone's been into the system. Both the methane containers and the failing alarms and doors had been fiddled with – and on different occasions it seems. All this is still strictly confidential of course. No one knows but Intel, a few in High Command, plus us two." Skywalker glanced to his droid that let out a confirmating whistle, then back at her

"Ah." And the droid, obviously. But that meant that she was either trusted – or baited. Mara glared again at Skywalker but he looked completely guileless. He did that all the time of course, and while Mara knew by now that he contained much more than met the eye, she would have bet the Emperor's robes on that he actually trusted her in this – her rescue of Deena had evidently won her much more than the blond girl's life.

"Can't Intel see where and when this happened?" she wondered, accepting this common ground she suddenly could share with the Jedi. "If they can, they should be able to track who did it."

Skywalker shook his head. "As I said, all the malfunctions seem to have occurred on different occations. The methane leak seems to be the key to the fire, but it was so small that it's hard to estimate when it started. It could have been anytime over several days."

Was she wrong then? How could Brie have been going after a specific target under those conditions? If it was Brie at all, that was. Mara frowned in thought. On the other hand – Brie should have been able to calculate when the amount of methane would be enough to start a fire – and how specific did she have to be? So long as the fire took off sometime during Deena's shift, it would hit the target Brie had aimed for.

Skywalker and Intel, however, knew nothing about a possible target – or about the motives for the sabotage – which left Brie free to take potshots at her rival as she pleased. If Mara wanted Deena safe, she either had to speak up to Brie herself – or raise general suspicion, thus forcing the woman to move more carefully.

"Do they think it was sabotage in general, or an attempt to kill someone?" she wondered as casually as she could.

Skywalker's eyes widened. "Kill? Stars, I haven't even considered that! I don't think anyone has. But why…?" He broke off, frowning.

Mara shrugged. "Well, you guys are at war in case you didn't notice."

"Figures. But this part of the ship was occupied by ordinary staff – not prominent persons like Mon Mothma or Leia. Why would anyone want to murder a bunch of supply officers?" Luke shook his head. "It makes much more sense that it was an attempt to cause as much general damage as possible. After all, the fire started close to the engine reactors. It's even possible that it was the ion cannon they were after."

"Possibly." Mara shrugged again, silently wondering why she bothered at all. Her job was to earn Skywalker's trust and for now, that seemed to be reasonably accomplished. She had no reason to try to protect Deena – indeed the fact that she'd grown this close to the girl was a nuisance, not a good thing – and while she had no love for Brie, the woman was her colleague, after all. Mara should help her rather than work against her - unless it crossed her own mission, of course. Oh, she was sick of these stupid rebels, sick of her mission and sick of Brie! If her Master hadn't ordered her to stay she'd turn her back at it all right now – simply steal a ship and leave. She decided to feed her suggestion to him one last time and then leave it be.

She took a deep breath. "Listen, I've moved the galaxy from one end to the other and I've met many people of different species and social classes. Nowhere I've been have people ever stopped intriguing and aiming at each other. Murder remains as a risk wherever beings meet. Mark my words."

Luke rubbed his chin. "Yeah, maybe. I hadn't given it a thought…" He shot her a sideways glance. "But you have, for sure."

Mara stiffened, a cold chill running down her back. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. I just..." His eyes widened as the thought struck him a little belatedly

Mara rose scowling, her hands going to her hips. "Are you insinuating that I've been thinking _too much_ about it? Had something to _do_ with it, perhaps?" _Damn you, Brie! If he starts to suspect, even the least, that I could have started that fire..._

Skywalker got to his feet as well, shaking his head frantically. "No! That wasn't what I meant, not at all!"

He reached towards her and Mara swatted his hand away, instinct urging her into a frantic attack to her own defence. "Well, I certainly hope so. Because I'm pretty damn certain that since I'm new here I'll be one of those receiving the close scrutiny. Fine with me, I'm used to it. It was probably Intel that told you to shake me down! You and your Force woo woo would make their perfect agent!"

Skywalker was visibly uneasy but instead of retreating he met her onslaught. "That's not the case at all, Mara. Please, believe me."

She lifted her chin, affronted – and very aware that her words had made him more suspicious rather than convinced of her innocence in the matter. Well, she wasn't afraid of him or his Force – and in this at least she had her hands clean. She'd had nothing to do with the fire and felt only disgust at that sort of disregard for humanoid life. "Well, go ahead," she challenged. "Probe my mind – I have nothing to hide!"

He didn't back down either – actually, she could sense his hackles rise at her demanding tone but he set his jaw and bit it back. "I told you, I'm not on any mission for Intel here," he repeated, voice forcibly calm. "Besides, I don't run around probing minds."

"Well, perhaps you should!" she snorted back. "What's the use of those precious Jedi skills unless you use them once in a while? You can tell whether people lie, can't you?"

Though clearly uncomfortable, he didn't flinch. "I can."

"Well, then do it," she challenged. "I don't care. If you can clear me of suspicion, all the better."

Luke studied her, partly uncomfortable, partly curious. He had never used the Force to penetrate anyone's mind intentionally, but he had no doubt that he could do it. Maybe she'd calm down if he did as she suggested. And the idea of looking closer particularly at Mara Jade's mind was straight out alluring. She was a puzzle to him – all hot ferocity and cool attraction. Of course he shouldn't lose himself in the fascinating aspects; there was also that sharp tingling of danger he'd sensed back on Tatooine. Maybe it wasn't a stupid thing to seize the opportunity to find out a little more. "Alright," he conceded. "If you insist."

Mara's heart flew a loop but she was too stubborn to back down. It was too late now anyway. She lifted her chin, cleared her mind – and waited.

He took a few slow breaths, eyes fixed on the floor as he reached out to the Force, then looked up and straight at her. Blue eyes pierced through her and suddenly they weren't mild but unshakable and powerful, so powerful they forced Mara to brace herself in order to hold her ground. In a blazing instant, their roles reversed. She was no longer pushing him but being challenged to her uttermost. He was no longer the over-polite, self-effacing farmboy but a compelling master, an overpowering iron mind, the change having taken place in seconds.

For a moment she was swaying in midair, nothing to hold on to, even the ground disappearing. Only Luke remained; before her, around her, _inside_ her – and the sensation made her gasp; shockingly strange, impossibly intoxicating. "Did you start that fire, Mara?"

"No, I didn't." Suddenly she realized what a minefield she'd let her temper draw her into and went cold. _What if he saw…?_ Clamping down on that panic-inducing thought, she realized he would know it, could know _all_ about her - if he cared to look. She instantly regretted that she'd given him this idea – how stupid could she be? - literally _inviting_ him to read her thoughts! She desperately fought to hold on to her center.

But Luke wasn't taking any liberties. He was already pulling back, his face turning into that well-meaning farmboy again. And instead of suspicious he looked more awkward, ashamed of the discomfort he'd caused her. He shifted his feet, looking first to the ground, then back at her. "All right. That was that. _Now_, do you accept that I believe you?"

The abrupt shift was almost as jarring as the strong will she'd been hit by only moments before, but at least it seemed he hadn't looked further than that single question. She managed a snort and looked past him, at the bulkhead. "You didn't really believe it before," she muttered accusingly. "Maybe _you _hadn't thought of it, but if someone had thrown the idea out you'd have started to wonder."

Luke sighed, rubbing his neck. "Well, perhaps you're right."

Was he really so guileless or was he just humoring her? Mara glared at the Jedi without really managing to whip up the proper indignation. He was so… The sensation of his mind inside her own was still making her flurried, almost exhilarated. She shouldn't have done that, the risk was too high… yet, if she hadn't been alarmed about what he might find, would she have minded? It hadn't been intimidating at all, almost the contrary… But this man was her enemy!

Luke shrugged. "Well, now I know, at least. And I'll tell Intel what I know of course, but I'm not sure they'll take my word for it. They're used to dealing with more palpable facts than the Force."

Somewhat calmed down now, Mara reflected how stupid that was of them – but also convenient for her and her Master. The only Jedi in the galaxy - overlooked and disregarded by his allies. The Rebel Alliance didn't know how much potential they were wasting on a daily basis. Meanwhile, Luke Skywalker was left to struggle to find his path alone. She studied his turned-away face, so serious and earnest, and suddenly she felt sorry for him.

Before she had time to swallow the dread of this, he lifted his head and their eyes locked. Curious blue sank into startled green, mind met mind, and for a few heartbeats the galaxy stopped again.

Then Mara caught up with herself, renewed alarm giving way to abrupt fury. "That's enough, Jedi! I allowed you one single peek into my mind, not a season ticket! If you ever do that uninvited again I'll pull your bollocks up over your head and make you swallow! Is that clear?"

He jerked back, shocked and stunned; then, for the first time ever since she'd met him, the sense of him turned blank and repelling. Had she finally managed a proper jab? Mara couldn't tell because his mind was suddenly blocked to her as hard and inpenetrable as his face. He shrugged. "Sure, Mara. Sorry."

Before she could find a way to pull her words back, before she even could find a reply, he had turned and left, his astromech tailing him. Mara was left to stare at his disappearing form, wondering whether she, with this final blow, had finally blown it.

. . .

After a trip to Intel where he passed on Mara's arguments, Luke retreated to tinker with his X-wing, still fuming. He had sensed… It didn't matter anyway! Chaos take that woman! Every time he believed he was closing in on her she got some insane fit and why did he care anyway? He was done trying to learn to know her, done wasting energy and time on her altogether!

It took him a long time to calm down and push Mara Jade and her annoying, offensive puzzle of an ego away from his thoughts. After several hours of deeply concentrated work on his fighter, he could close the hatch again, his equanimity more or less restored. He was just about to leave the hangar when he heard Shira call out to him. "Luke! Can you spare a minute?"

She was standing under her fighter, obviously doing the same thing as he'd been; checking her craft and upgrading it if possible, despite the knowledge that it would give her mechanic grey hairs. Her hair was pinned up out of the way and she had a long grease streak down her cheek. Luke couldn't resist a smile; ever since the dinner, he and Shira seemed to have found a comfortable way around each other again. She still teased him a little now and then but Luke was more at ease, trusting she'd give him a break the next moment. He changed course towards her. "Sure, Shira. Is there a problem?" He wondered silently to himself how anyone could look so good in one-size-fits-all coveralls.

She was messing with the wirings of the shield projection mount, her head almost inside the hatch. "Yeah, I've got a slight problem here," she admitted. "I wanted to speed up the shield adjustment sequence and my R2 unit told me to run a power shunt from the conduit to my dorsal port cannon, but I'm far from sure it's the best solution. Got any suggestions?"

Luke leaned in, studying the wirings. "I have to say that's a pretty strange suggestion from your droid. If I were you I'd just install a boost pack on the power coupling."

Shira smiled in relief. "That's what I thought too. I got pretty confused when it gave me that crap about the cannons but maybe _it's_ starting to get confused. Guess I ought to take it in for a memory wipe."

"Or perhaps you wipe it too often? I'd say it's a problem with many astromech units around here," Luke countered, smiling. "Ok, I probably don't have any room to talk – my R2 hasn't been wiped in all the four years I've had it, and he was self-willed already back then. But he always knows what he's doing. Do you want him to take a look at this?"

"Well if it's only a boost pack installation I can do it myself easily.**"** Shira peered back into the hatch. "Do you think something else is required?"

Luke squeezed in beside her and took a good look himself. "I'd say that's enough…" He fiddled with the wiring Shira had turned into a rat's nest, wincing slightly at the mess. "Anyway, have you asked your mechanic? It would probably be best to –"

Something soft and warm touched his cheek. He jerked his head around in surprise and the softness moved to his lips as Shira kissed him a second time. Luke's eyes widened and when she withdraw to only a few inches from his face her scent still surrounded him, exiting, eluding... He found himself unable to retreat – and not just because the fighter was in his way. She was so close, so soft, so beautiful and completely irresistible... Instead he moved his face forward and their lips touched again. His eyes drifted closed as the kiss slowly deepened.

All of a sudden Shira pulled back, eyes shining. "Oh Luke! You _do_ want this after all!"

He knew he should protest but found no words. Glancing up, he became aware that even though they were standing pretty shielded by the fighter, people had noticed them; Barlon Hightower, standing with Stacey from Red Squadron was pointing straight at them. He also realized he was still holding Shira tight and that his whole body was responding to the closeness of her body. His cheeks heated. "Shira, I…"

She smiled knowingly. "C'mon, Ace!"

Taking his hand she pulled him with her. He could se no other way but to follow.

.

Shira dragged Luke clear out of the hangar bay and through the corridor. When they came to the lifts she turned towards him and the look in her eyes set his blood burning, pushing all earlier doubts aside. Their mouths came together again, opened, tongues meeting. Shira crushed her body against his and fire raged in the pit of his stomach, rendering any coherent thought next to impossible.

Whatever reservations he'd had about himself, her or their situation, they were gone now. Everything about her, her eyes, her body, her mind, screamed to him what she wanted and how badly she wanted it. And he wished it himself - Force! - he did! But…

"Shira…"

"My cabin, Luke, it's closest." When he tried to gather stamina to protest, she smiled at him. "Don't worry, Ace – everybody will think we did it anyway!"

Well, that was a point. 'Shira knows how it is; you wouldn't even have to explain…if some of it turns out to be horizontal, well, that's what happens…" Wedge's words from weeks back suddenly resounded in his mind. Wasn't this too late for regrets anyway?

Gods, how this woman could kiss!

Ok, he didn't know her deep inside, he couldn't call her a soul mate since he had no idea of what her soul looked like, still didn't know her… But he _liked_ her, genuinely liked her - she was an amazing, attractive and intelligent woman, well worth loving, impossible not to desire… And if he let this moment go he would regret it the rest of his life…

When the elevator reached the cabin section and she started down the corridor he followed without a protest. The door to Shira's cabin had hardly closed behind them before they tumbled over her bed in a tangle. Shira tugged impatiently at the fasteners of their clothing but Luke pulled back, a sudden thought surfacing in his blurred mind, if rather belatedly. "Wait! We don't… Idon't have any protection!"

Shira was gasping for air. "It's ok. I've...taken…shots…"

Luke grasped her by the shoulders to steady them both. "Regularly?" he demanded.

Shira hesitated a quarter of a second. "Almost…"

A memory flashed through Luke's mind; Deena, eyes shining, voice confident, 'I'm safe to play with', and only a few weeks later, the long painful wait at the medbay, when he'd been preparing himself to take the responsibility it really had gone wrong. He straightened, pulled back. "Then we can't Shira, sorry…"

"Luke, for Sith's sake, the risk is _so _small…!" Shira whimpered.

"No."

"Blast! Wait!" She rummaged in a drawer, found something and pulled it out."Gods! Does this thing even work anymore…? Yes!" She started laughing. "Now you're out of excuses!"

Luke felt a sting of bad conscience. "I'm not looking for…"

She smirked and pulled him in for a kiss. "Oh yes you are. I know you, Ace! You want to keep a girl on ice until you're sure your feelings will last for the rest of your life."

Her voice turned husky. "But you don't have to do that with me, Luke. I'm not expecting you to propose to me, you know. Just to keep to me for as long as you want. We're at war here. Let's enjoy each other while we still can."

Luke realized in that moment he'd not only run out of arguments. He'd also outrun his dedication to search for them. Life seemed so utterly short and fragile and there were so many dreams his young mind and body still yearned for. Losing himself in Shira's embrace he finally gave in to one them.

. . .

General Riekaan looked from one to another, clearing his throat. "Well, I don't think we can wait any longer. We're still not all assembled but we have a lot to cover so I think we'll have to begin. Admiral Ackbar, if you would."

The brown skinned Mon Calamari stepped forward. "As all of you know, time is closing in for a decisive step. Some of you know what this operation is about, others of you have only guesses, and for a while it will have to remain that way. However…"

He was interrupted by the hiss of the slide doors. Luke Skywalker tumbled in, his fatigues still open at the neck, hair untidy and cheeks turning a fascinating sunburn-red as everybody turned their eyes towards him.

He pulled himself to a salute. "Admiral, Officers. I apologize for the delay. Please, don't let me interrupt." He hurried to the vacant chair that Wedge pulled out with one booted foot and sat down, trying desperately to project sincere regret and concentration into the assembly.

Wedge kept his face similarly solemn and straight ahead. Not for several minutes did he tip his head lightly towards Luke to murmur from the corner of his mouth, eyes still on Ackbar, "I know why you're late."

Luke willed his face to remain frozen as if in carbonite; probably it would have felt this way anyhow. He tipped his head carefully towards Wedge and breathed. "How?"

"Oh, everybody knows. Shipwide."

Luke closed his eyes. Carbonfreeze didn't seem so bad an alternative right now.

As the meeting broke up and Luke shook hands with the dispersing officers, he couldn't help observing how many of them gave him half-amused, half-curious glances, smiling indulgently as they left the room. It pained him even more than the embarrassment of having lost concept of time and place twice today now. He didn't _want_ their understanding and forbearance. He was supposed to be a Jedi, not a schoolboy caught in pubertal explorations. Whatever else he'd done today, he had also failed – again.

_Dickhead_, he told himself somberly, knowing that was what everybody probably was thinking already. And they were right. What had he been thinking? Had he been thinking at all? And now it was too late. It was most definitely too late to back out, and besides, he'd never do that to Shira. He was in now. Besides, hadn't his uncle always told him that the best kind of love was the kind that grew slowly, from knowing each other over a long time?

As they left the room as the last ones, Wedge laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Well," he soothed. "At least you remembered to zip up."

They hadn't turned many corners when Luke sensed a familiar presence, the next moment she was in his arms again, lips against his, soft, enthralling and utterly compelling. "Hi Ace!" she exhaled when they again were able to breath.

Luke was still too knocked sideways to be able to speak but Wedge hadn't lost that ability. "Good grief, Shira! Good thing you waited until those admi-generals had left. Ackbar would have had to dive into the nearest water glass to cool down."

Shira shot him a radiant smile, entangling from Luke only a tiny bit. "Which would have been too bad 'cos I bet you were all drinking hot, black caf at that meeting."

"Still would have been cooler than you," Wedge maintained.

Shira just grinned and shrugged. "Did you, by the way, find that datapad you lost the other day?"

Wedge blushed slightly. "Um, yes. Turned out it was it in Rogues' rec room. Must have slipped out of my pocket. Alarm cancelled."

"What datapad?" Luke asked.

"Never mind." Shira grinned towards him. "I'm starving. How about you?"

"Uh, well." There was no backing down, he knew that already. He already found himself looking for an escape hatch, but confusing loyalties and a determination to live up to unuttered demands kept him where he was. Then his stomach churned loudly and Luke couldn't hold back a sheepish grin. "Is that answer enough for you?"

She gave him a smile that could have bewitched a Sith. "Let's go." Lacing in her arm under his she started guiding them towards the Mess. Considering the circumstances, Luke mused, it was as binding as a walk down the ceremonial chapel.

.

After supper, Shira followed him to his cabin, staying the night. The sweetness of her lips against his, the soft curves of her body and the fierceness of her passion when she responded to his clumsy caresses swept away all doubts and worries, swept away the world around him. That night he slept well for the first time he could remember.

. . .

Early next morning, Luke walked up the bridge for his once-a-week shift. In the Alliance military, many promising officers were trained for several duties and being a senior by now, Luke usually did supervision duty for the targeting division to give the usual officers a break.

He'd made sure he wasn't late this time. Once was more than enough to get people talking and he was determined not to give them more ammo. Showing up promptly at oh-six-hundred hours shiptime, he was surprised to see a slender, white form standing by the huge transparisteel windows. The winking stars and the vast, black space caused her willowy frame to seem even more exquisite than usual.

Forcing himself to go through the forms and routines, it took Luke more than a quarter of an hour before he could approach her and by then his heart was pounding very hard, much to his own annoyance.

"'Morning Leia. You're up early."

She had of course already known he'd reported in and didn't flinch, only turned her head slightly in that graceful manner that he hold so dare. "Good morning, Luke. Yes. Sometimes I don't sleep well." She smiled almost apologetically. "Not as often as before, though."

Having Shira firmly fixed in mind, Luke knew exactly what she referred to – and he suspected it was an intentional reference from Leia's side – if she had heard the rumors, that was. He got a strong compulsion to hug her, the way he always had found an excuse to do before; the way that had seemed so natural when they still had been searching for Han. But somehow it all felt too complicated now. He clutched his hands behind his back and stared out at the stars, unable to find words to go with the situation. He wondered whether Leia's bad sleep was somehow connected with him and Shira. She didn't like Shira, he knew she didn't, even though she'd never uttered a word about it, and it pained him that he had somehow let her down, had at some level gone against her.

But he couldn't let that influence him anymore. Maybe Leia and Shira weren't the best of friends but they would have to accommodate, somehow. He was sure they would try at least, for his sake. And he would do everything he could to help them along.

He reached for a common topic. "You weren't at the briefing yesterday?"

Leia flinched slightly. "No, I wasn't. Mon needed my help with something – and I've been following all the prep work so I didn't need the brief. But I… heard you were there." She looked away, not quite able to hide her embarrassment.

She had heard the rumors then. Luke had to reach out to the Force in order not to blush. The condition he'd arrived in had probably left no one, not even an alien like Ackbar, with any doubts of the reasons for his delay – and Luke suddenly found himself very grateful that Leia hadn't been there. But if she were to turn her back on him now...

To his great relief, she didn't shy away from him but remained where she was, her gaze turning back to the stars. They stood together, close, neither daring to reach out to the other, both fearing the betrayal of any word that might be spoken but neither wanting to withdraw. Time ticked by, none of them speaking, neither wishing to withdraw.

Leia's eyes were soft and regretful when she finally turned to him, the starlight from the vast view panel reflecting in her deep brown gaze. "I'm sorry Luke, I'm needed in the Advisory Council…"

He nodded, reaching out his hand to give hers a little squeeze as she embraced her own shoulders. Her hand turned, palm towards him, and she held it for a few heartbeats. Then they both let go and she walked past him.

Luke followed her with his eyes. He was as confused as ever, but knew for sure that he thought the world of her, cared for her, like for no one else. Why did things have to be so complicated?

T.B.C.


	17. Chapter 17

Huge thanks for your many reviews! I' m touched that so many of you took time to give feedback when you realized I was nervous about last chapter! I truly appreciate it!

But now things in this story have taken the turn they have, let's see what we can make of it, eh? ;-D

I also want to thank amazing frodogenic for challenging, fighting and overpowering RL to get this story betaed! Cyberhugs your way!

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**Quagmire – Chapter 17**

**Revelations**

Mara was on her way to the medbay when she sensed a familiar presence closing in. She cursed silently to herself. Was there not one solitary cubic centimeter on this ship where she could be in peace from that bloody Jedi? He might be her target, but did he have to plaster himself on her? He had, after all, 1,300 meters of ship where he could have his fling! Now he even had a girlfriend he could cuddle up with – oh, yes, she had heard the rumors - couldn't he spend some time with her instead?

Just at the entrance to the medbay he caught up with her and flinched at the sight of her. That prompted a wicked grin from Mara despite her annoyance. So, Skywalker was as antsy to see her as she was nettled about meeting him? The thought made her mood a bit better, though she was well aware it shouldn't; from a professional angle she should do all she could to make him comfortable in her company. Their last clash fresh in mind, however, she couldn't summon much professionalism. Let the Jedi stay at a distance for a while! Besides, her dear colleague surely had the situation in control. Mara fully intended to relax and bury her head inside the B-wings until she finally got orders out of here.

True to form, Skywalker suppressed his reaction instantly and came towards her with well-faked calm. Mara had plenty of chance to study him as he approached.

Oh, he had gotten laid all right! Why was that possible tell just from one look at a man? Not that Skywalker looked cocky – Mara doubted he knew how – but there was a vigor and vitality to his movement even despite his dismay to see her, an easiness in the way his head ranked up on his shoulders that spoke its own language. That explained why he hadn't sensed her sooner – he'd been preoccupied with his own thoughts – and also why she hadn't seen him for a few days.

She could hardly have avoided the rumors as the ship was practically boiling with them, but she'd paid closer attention to the reception of the news. Most people seemed to think it was about time that Skywalker and Brie hooked up. Once again, Luke Skywalker was slipping smoothly into the golden boy role, however this time more as a match for the golden girl it seemed. It irked Mara to no end that Brie had gotten her way and claimed her trophy. Mara wished the woman into a black hole.

"Hello Mara. Were you going to see Deena or…?" Skywalker's tone was weary, perfectly neutral expression notwithstanding. That suited Mara just fine. Let him tiptoe on that knife-edge a bit.

"I am going to see Deena," she corrected him dryly. "How nice you've managed to find time to do the same. She'll be delighted, I'm sure." She turned on her heels and entered the medbay, the stunned and not at all reassured Jedi at her tail.

.

Of course, Deena was delighted. She beamed first towards Mara, then with redoubled brilliance towards Skywalker as he came padding in behind her.

"How are you doing Dee?" He stooped down to give her a hug, while Mara settled on the foot end of the bed. "You look great."

"You think so?" Deena chirped. "I'm beginning to feel that way even though it has taken it's time and I can't tell you how relieved I am about it. When I first woke up after that fire I thought I'd never get rid of that terrible headache - and that was for all they had stuffed me so full of painkillers and drugs that I could have contaminated the food supply just by walking by. But it's better now."

Skywalker smiled warmly as if Deena's familiar word stream sounded like music to him. Maybe it did; he'd been close to losing her entirely. He turned to smile at her too, his misgivings fading against Deena's vivacity, but Mara was in no mood to be softened; she just tilted her head, her eyes glinting.

"Isn't it sweet of Luke to come by?" she launched, lacing her voice with sarcasm. "He's very occupied these days so I think we should recognize that you're shown a very special honor here."

Skywalker straightened, obviously stung by her words but maybe even more embarrassed. It wasn't like he had to take any pains to broadcast his new relationship; the rumor mill was grinding so furiously he himself probably couldn't keep up with it.

"Oh, yes," Deena recalled, shifting uncomfortably in her bed. "Congratulations. I heard about you and Shira." She tried an earnest smile

"Ah. Thanks." The Jedi's eyes ran quickly over her face and Mara had no doubt that he subconsciously scanned her with the Force for reactions on the news. The conclusions must have been as discouraging as Deena's cramped smile suggested because he shifted on his feet, looking even more uneasy than before.

"Yeah, well, I guess I've been fooling around long enough. It was time to make a decision," he replied rather defensively. "And I really think this will work out great…"

To Mara it sounded like he was anything but convinced, but probably he believed his own words. Or he was simply being loyal. Loyal! To that little bloodfin! Get a grip, farmboy!

"I thought you were a Jedi?" she heard herself blurt out.

His head popped up from the eager study of his boots. "I… Well, I'm not. Not yet anyway. What do you mean?"

Great, Jade. What are you messing yourself into now? Mara registered that her voice was remarkably more stable than her motives as she continued but she just couldn't hold back. "From what I've heard, the Jedi didn't encourage relationships. I thought that was why you've been behaving so saintly." On the other hand – she was at least undermining Skywalker's ego as a Jedi here – and that was good strategy, wasn't it?

He stared at her. "Where have you heard that?"

"You've never heard it before?" Mara countered, sidestepping his question in order to buy time. She had heard of it from her Master of course, but no way she could tell Skywalker that.

"No, I…" He halted, like a thought striking him, and paled a little at that. "No," he repeated after a moment. "I never understood it that way anyway."

"But you have heard something like it?" Mara maintained, ransacking her brain for likely possibilities where she could have heard of such a thing. It mustn't be too far fetched; she still suspected Skywalker to be able to sense outright lies. She could have read it somewhere but then he'd insist on knowing where. She could have…

He hesitated. "I've heard of… something that makes sense now you say it. But I never heard that… Are you sure? Where have you got that information?"

Somehow the story sprang full-formed into her brain. "I know a young woman whose parents had to leave the Order to get married. The Jedi wouldn't allow attachments but her mother got pregnant and they had to make a choice."

"Are you saying the Jedi threw them out?" Skywalker sounded incredulous.

"That was my impression, yes." Mara hesitated, then felt forced to add, "Ok, I'm not sure if they chose to go themselves or if they were kicked out but I know that their relationship wasn't accepted. And it was my clear impression that they were not an exception. Attachments in general weren't accepted by the Jedi."

"I didn't… I…" He stopped himself, clearly thrown off by this new information. Deena's wide eyes darted from him to Mara and then back to Luke again but he didn't look at her; just stood frozen; only his right hand opening and closing reflexively.

After long moments he shook himself back to reality. "I've never heard of it," he repeated, "and it doesn't change anything for me. Not as things have turned out. But of course I'll have to think about the matter. And try to figure out why the Jedi of old had such a restriction."

"Sure," Mara shrugged. "Not my business anyway. Just wondering."

Deena, who had followed their exchange, wide eyes darting form the one to the other, finally brought her mouth up to say something. "Perhaps it could have something to do with the children that might be conceived?"

"Perhaps." Skywalker bit his lip. "Something to do with allegiances too, I bet. I'll have to think about it."

"Mara thinks that children don't owe their parents anything," Deena blurted out, "because the parents acted out of selfish reasons anyway when they made them. She says children shouldn't worry about what their parents want them to do but should think about themselves instead."

Skywalker gaped at the torrent of words, and Mara could easily follow him. As usual with Deena, her comment was only vaguely in context and served with breathless speed. "What?"

Deena tugged at Mara's sleeve. "You say it. It sounds much more impressive when you say it."

Mara scowled at her. "Look, I just said… Oh, never mind! I just said that you don't owe your parents." She made a face and glanced back at Skywalker who stared at her, an expression of complete disbelief to his face.

"What are you saying? That children should renounce their parents?" Fore some reason he seemed even more disturbed by this than by her earlier claim.

Mara lifted her chin. "I never said that. But who you are is a matter of your own choice, not something you should design according to the claims of others, blood ties or not."

"And what about allegiances? Do you disown them too?"

Mara found herself back against the wall herself. By now, she had no idea whether what she was saying was working to her advantage or not; she simply found herself pushed to speak her own meaning. "I don't renounce allegiances. I just say that you should choose them yourself, not be born into them. I have seen too many people hide conveniently behind conventions instead of taking their own fate as their responsibility." Responsibility! Allegiance! Both words suddenly had such a foul taste to her mouth. But Skywalker looked like a man just realizing what to fight for.

"Oh, here you are."

All three jumped at the gleeful voice, none of them having realized her approaching. Shira Brie gave Luke a coy wink, then flashed a smile full of concern towards the patient. "Deena! You're looking swell! How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Deena assured without thinking, caught completely aback. "I'm fine."

"I'm so glad to hear that!" Brie sounded completely sincere. "Well, I'm sorry to interfere, but Luke's requested on the bridge. Ackbar told me had some important information for you."

"Right," Skywalker agreed mechanically.

Then he frowned, a quite different thought occurring to him. "Um, why didn't Ackbar use my comlink?"

A teasing smile tugged the corners of Brie's mouth. "Because I told him you were in the medbay and had deactivated your comlink as you should. Don't tell me you forgot to shut it off?"

Alarmed, Skywalker pulled the com from his belt and found to his great embarrassment that it was still active. He shrugged a bit sheepishly. "Well, no one called."

Brie clicked her tongue. "Now, who was lucky?" She took his arm, starting to pull him towards the door, grinning. "And so you should get out of here before it starts sounding. You offender, you."

"Ok, ok. Just a sec." Skywalker pulled free and stepped to the bed where he bent down to give Deena a hug. Mara could see their eyes meet and felt the warm wave of care and companionship that rolled between them. The Jedi smiled, tilting his head to give the blond girl a soft kiss on her cheek. "Great to see you're getting back on the Bantha again, Dee," he murmured. "Keep hanging on, ok? Remember Wedge is counting on you to be fit for fight in five days."

"Oh hush, you," Deena giggled, but Mara could she how she beamed under Skywalker's warm gaze. At the door Brie was already turning, impatient, but held to her quiet as she saw the warm exchange. Her face arranged into a patient, indulgent smile, in striking contrastto the complete lack of both emotions that she radiated. Another cold chill raced down Mara's spine. Without absolutely any evidence she was growing more certain every day that Brie had not only started the fire, she had also done so with one sole purpose; to get rid of a rival. Now she had gotten her way with Skywalker but Deena was still a splinter in her butt. Somehow, Mara had to find a way to secure Deena!

Lighting her own face in an innocent smile she met Brie's shielded gaze. As usual it gave nothing away about what the other woman truly thought. On the contrary – her smile could have put a Tusken Raider off guard. "See you later, Deena," she echoed. She reached out to take Skywalker's hand and tugged him with her out of the room.

.

Mara stared at the closed door. "Hive rat," she muttered under her breath.

Deena leaned back on her bed with an exasperated moan. "But she was so sweet today!" she protested meekly. "Maybe it's just me who's been doing her wrong? Or maybe she was a bit jealous about Luke before she knew she could have him? Maybe it all will change now? Everybody likes her. They say she's so sweet…"

"Well, I don't. And I don't care what others think." Mara thought of all the knowledge she had of Shira Brie that she couldn't tell her friend. Kriff, where was the line? She must have crossed it plenty of times by now.

Deena shook her head, her voice a mix of deep admiration and forbearance. "That's easy for you to say. You're so strong and self-contained. You never care about what other people think of you. You just walk your own free-standing path and don't give a damn."

Mara starightened, stung by her words. "What would you know about that?"

"Well, do you?"

"Do what?"

"Care about what others think of you?"

"No," Mara admitted, wondering for the first time in her life whether there might be something wrong with the answer. "Why should I?"

The blond girl shrugged. "Well, I'm pretty awed to have a friend like you."

Mara opened her mouth to protest. She wanted to tell Deena that she neither wanted nor deserved her admiration. And that she certainly didn't deserve her friendship either. She wanted to tell her that they weren't friends at all, at least not like Deena believed, but she couldn't, could she? If she did, she would betray her Master, the only person she'd ever promised anything in her entire life.

She shrugged. "Well, who stood up for the B-wing pilots in the Mess? It sure wasn't me. Maybe you're more couragous than you think? And maybe your father learned you more than he knew."

Deena's eyes grew wide. "Dad? What do you mean?"

Mara shrugged. "He taught you a thing that many would like to learn but few do when all comes to all; to hold your head up, no matter how much you're beaten."

. . .

Returning to the hangar bay some time later, Mara noticed Shira Brie standing solitary by her X-wing. She stopped, half reluctant, half bristling - but now was a rare opportunity to catch Brie alone.

"So, it was a message from Ackbar," she commented, waspishly halting her steps. "I thought that was an excuse for getting him away from his ex."

Brie snorted, not for a moment loosing her all-smoothing smile. "Please! Do you take me for an amateur? I'd reveal myself the moment we came out of the room."

"Perhaps he'd be so occupied he wouldn't notice?" Mara scorned. She couldn't but help that Brie seemed as willing as herself to drop all pretense of camaraderie. Last time they spoke they had remained reasonably civil – but since, they had apparently both come to the conclusion that the other one was a nek.

"Possibly. You have something for me or did you just stop for a chat?" Brie was as unfazed as ever.

"I passed your message," Mara informed coldly.

The other woman rose her eyebrows at that. "Very good. I'm impressed. You seem to have a good channel – or were you just lucky to get past security?"

"I have a good channel." Mara cut off.

"Then I have another interesting morsel for you to pass on. Luke Skywalker will arrive on a mission to the fifth planet in the Thenax-system in seven days' time. I will be on that mission as well and if my plan succeeds, he will never return to the Rebellion again. We won't have much time to move so I want preparations to be made and the local authorities to await my signal. The code is Lizard Alert. I'd get in a proper good-bye wave if I was you."

Mara frowned. "Assassination isn't in the present orders."

Brie rolled her eyes. "I'm well aware of that, and I have no intention of killing him. No, I want him captured and brought before our Master."

Mara let out a snort, not bothering to hide her incredulity. What did that conceited Borgle bat believe she could do better than Darth Vader, Prince Xizor or even Jabba the Hutt? "Sounds ambitious, if you ask me," she dismissed.

Brie flashed a self-assured smile. "Why settle for less than perfection, that's what I say. And you can save your next question: yes I have a back-up plan. Believe me, even if our sweet Luke returns from that mission he will come home with a fiasco, mission unaccomplished and his comrades killed."

"Interesting. I thought you just said you would go with him?"

"His other comrades killed," Brie snapped, impatience finally audible in her voice. "And believe me, that will go hard on him. He will have failed in his own eyes as well as other people's. His friends will disappoint him, turn their back to him and that will work our way, soften him so that he'll fall in our Master's hand when time comes."

Now it was Mara's turn to roll her eyes. "Dream on, Brie. Skywalker's too attached to his friends to ever turn his back to them, no matter how much they disappoint him,"

"That's not my job either. My job is to pull his friends away from him, not the other way round. It will be our Master who convinces Luke to turn his back on them. When I'm done, he will find the way to that much smoothened. Even Luke will start to falter when everybody turns their back to him on a time when he'd need them more than ever. And I'll feed those feelings from my position, which you surely agree is pretty convenient."

Mara sniffed. "I can't really see the point in 'befriending' him like you do. But if you have fun, fine with me."

"Oh I have my fun, don't you worry." Brie smiled mordantly. "Besides, there are other benefits going with this arrangement. For example I get access to things… Like this little gadget." She dug her hand into her pocket and pulled up a small flimsinote.

"And that is…?" Mara felt forced to ask against her will.

"The access code to his cabin." Shira shrugged casually. "Now I won't have to stand in the middle of a trafficked passageway, trying to fiddle with override codes or shortcuts in order to get access to his secret files. It's so annoying, you know. And a bit too obvious, people might start to ask questions. Well, it was nice to speak to you." She inclined her head, like had this been some kind of audience that now was over.

But Mara wasn't done yet. "One more thing, sister. You want to play with Skywalker? Fine. But you stay away from Deena Shan."

Brie who had turned back to her X-wing her already, looked up sharply, not able to hide her annoyance at Mara's tone, but she landed like the ravenous nexu she was on all four feet. "I wonder what our Master would say about this sudden soft spot of yours?" she purred.

Mara refused to be intimidated. "Deena is my access to Skywalker when you screw up and if you attack her again, I will take it very personally."

Brie shrugged. "Fine with me. She's an outdated threat anyway."

"Oh sure. And you set fire to the supply chambers killing twelve people just for the fun of it?" Mara snarled. Brie's eyes widened and she opened her mouth but Mara had had it. "And you know what? It was a kriffing stupid thing to do! Sooner or later intel will find a trace and then you're farked."

The dismise returned to Shira Brie's face and her lips curled into a cold smile. "And who says I did it?"

"Do garrals have freckles? How many Imperial loyalists are on this ship?"

"Maybe you'd be surprised?" Brie cooed. "After all, you thought yourself the only Hand of our Master, didn't you?"

The reminder of her humiliation stoked Mara's boiling annoyance into redhot fury. And as always, when she got truly enraged, her mind snapped into sharp, controlled calculation. Her lips pulled to a cold smile and she clicked her tongue. "Just to get rid of a rival… How magnificently unprincipled. What a spectacular disregard for human life. Were you always like that – or has the long time undercover eroded your morals?"

It was Brie's turn to snort in contempt. "Please! Rival? Shan? She never was one."

Then why…? Mara fixed her sharply but the other woman continued. "Every loyal friend to Skywalker is a threat to me – as they should be to you." Brie's voice got a dangerous timbre and for a moment the two women locked eyes. Then Bries smiled again and shrugged lightly. "But don't you worry. I've taken care of everything - and I won't tell anyone about your little pet."

A dozen sharp replies burned on the tip of Mara's tongue but she also knew she was becoming too agitated to properly control her body language. It was time to break off before people started paying attention to them. She gave her colleague one final glare, then turned on her heels and left.

Finally sheltered by the fins of her day's first B-wing, she allowed herself a break. She was boiling with annoyance - yet she was strangely feeling more awkward and alone than at any point before in her life, even when she'd been young and afraid and away on her first mission.

She remembered the warmth in Skywalker's eyes earlier when he'd hugged Deena – and she knew with absolute clarity that whatever Brie had intention of doing, she wouldn't be able to pull the Jedi away from his friends; he'd never stop caring about them, no matter how good her plans, no matter how well she shagged. For the first time in her life Mara felt she could herself have valued to share a companionship like that - true, earnest caring about each other – but she might as well ask the galaxy stop turning for her sake.

She was - as she had ever been – alone.

Unconsciously, she lifted her chin at the challenge, her eyes catching a dangerous glint. So what? Let Brie think she had the market cornered on Skywalker! There was more than one way to skin a bantha, and Mara was prepared to bet the Emperor's favourite throne that her way was faster, neater, and slicker. High time she proved it.

. . .

Back in his cabin, Luke dumped down at his working table. The surface was piled like a Massassi temple with datapads and flimsi. He rubbed his temples, tired, trying to get his mind working again on his upcoming mission. What came to his mind, however, was neither his assignment nor Ackbar's errand. It wasn't even Shira, who was supposed to be his leading distraction. Instead it was his, once again, troublesome encounter with Mara earlier today. _Why didn't Yoda tell me? _Another_ thing they didn't tell me…_

As it happened, he _had_ heard of the non-attachment rule, having come across a mention of it in his investigations about the Jedi. Only, that had been _after _his visit at Dagobah. Where Master Yoda hadn't said a word on the topic. Consequently Luke had brushed it off as an intriguing example of Imperial propaganda. But if Mara's claim was true, he'd been wrong in dismissing it so quickly. Still, Master Yoda hadn't spoken of it even once. Why not?

The rule was disconcerting to Luke on more than one personal level. It was unsettling of course, and screamingly badly timed since he had just entered a relationship. No matter how fresh and unplanned his affair with Shira was, it was a liasion he'd entered wide awake and in his full senses and he had no intention to turn her down; he had started on that path and only time would tell where it would take them. It wasn't to be discussed – and as that, it wasn't really what upset him.

What really alarmed him about Mara's assertion, was when he put it into relief with his own background. If no attachments were allowed to the Jedi of old, didn't that mean that he, Luke, was a mistake? Had his father got himself a shock nine months after a single, rash night? Had he known Luke's mother at all? Had he cared about her? Or had it been the opposite: he had loved her and had broken with the Jedi Order because of her and his son? What if the Jedi Order had turned its back on Anakin Skywalker – and Anakin Skywalker had just one-upped them and spurned the Light Side altogether?

Luke hid his face in his hands, rubbing his hairline. Questions, nothing but damned questions. And once again it seemed that it was Yoda and Yoda alone who had the answers. But there was no going back to Dagobah now. Not before he'd completed his mission to steal that blasted shuttle. Gritting his teeth, Luke wondered for a moment if he should just give up everything about military planning and do it as Shira had suggested; just leave, sneak to the nearest Imperial base and steal the first _Lambda_-class shuttle he laid his eyes on. He might just get away with it too. After all, he'd been away on more than one suicidal mission and not only survived but succeeded - and his increasing Jedi abilities made the odds better day by day…

Luke sighed and leaned back again on his chair, tipping his head so far back that he could stare at the ceiling. Against that line of action stood the lessons he'd tried so hard to learn lately; to grow less foolhardy, less irresponsible. After all, it was his recklessness that had been one of Master Yoda's major arguments against Luke becoming a Jedi. And it had been that same impulsive, devil-may-care attitude had nearly gotten him killed at Bespin. Worse than killed – it had nearly got him caught by the Vader – and Luke knew the black hell that would have followed, the inevitable fall... He closed his eyes.

Wouldn't it?

With a small moan he recognized the familiar turn his thoughts had taken once more. He straightened again in the chair and brought up his arms behind his head, like could he use them to hold better on to his thoughts. Was it only his fears that were speaking? Could he really be turned against his own wish?

Vader had turned - and he'd been a man, a living, breathing, feeling human man once, was still, somewhere behind that monstruous black mask. It was a fact Luke knew to be completely true by now: he had felt is clearly, could recall it from his dreams and when he'd finally admitted this to himself, his persistent denials had eroded.

But did his turning from the light really mean that Luke was in danger of following suit? Would it - even if… Luke swallowed hard and forced himself to run the train of thought through; even _if _Vader was his father? Did it matter? Wasn't falling or not falling to the Dark Side still a question of Luke's own decision, of his own ability to control himself? Surely Luke had a choice, as free and independent a choice as any other living being?

And his choise was the light, of that he was sure. No matter how alluring, not matter what choises others had made, be they ever so clsse to him, the light was his path and he inteded to follow it.

Mara's words popped up again in his memory. _'Who you are is a matter of your own choice, not something you should design according to the claims of others, blood ties or not.' _There was a truth there… A truth he could do well in remembering.

But she had claimed other things too._ 'You don't owe your parents.'_

That was the next logical step – but also one completely antithetical to his own mindset. Yet, the thought whispered to him with beguiling attraction. If that could be true… and if Vader… If…And if he could just allow himself not to care…

But he couldn't, could he? It went against all he believed in, all he confessed. A child might not own his life and endless loyalty to a parent but still, _still_ there remained a connection, a tie, a reciprocal obligation. It was the pact that all social intercourse was built on, the very tie and glue of society, and to believe anything else would be to delude oneself gravely! Who you are _had _to have something to do with where you come from!

The things was, that in making those claims, Mara was revealing her way of thinking, revealed how desperately she fought to keep herself free of commitments and other people. Luke leaned back in his chair again, running his hands through his hair. Mara… She was an enigma to him, maybe the most puzzling person he'd even met – despite the fact that he was pretty certain that he had seen her, inside - with the Force, and twice now on the top of it. She was so palpable to him, he somehow _felt_ her, _knew_ her, more closely than he'd ever felt he knew anyone… And nothing of it made sense, of course.

Luke pursed his lips. Still, with Mara it was more like… like a brick missing; he felt somehow sure that if he had the key, she would make perfect sense. In contrast to Shira whom he'd known for what? _Years? That long?_ And still didn't feel he knew at all. A fresh wave of bad conscience shot up in Luke and he took a deep breath. He would _learn_ to know Shira - and while he liked Mara he had made no commitments towards _her_.

Commitments…

'_You don't owe your parents.'_

Allegiances…

"_You should choose them yourself, not be born into them. I have seen too many people hide conveniently behind conventions instead of taking their own fate as their responsibility."_

Responsibility…

In fleeing from Vader's claim, he had avoided that for a long time now. He had a responsibility, he had a choice. And he had to make it – no one could make it for him.

What _if _Vader was his father…

Luke took a deep breath and turned back to the thought, forcing himself to face it, for the first time compelling himself to confront that expelled, towering word that had scared the wits out of him for so long, pushing himself to think further: _if_.

If Darth Vader was Luke's father, then the Dark Lord had his own, deeply tragic history. If there was one thing Luke knew by now, it was that Anakin Skywalker had been a great, honorable Jedi; countless of records pointed to that, and Ben had told Luke, "he was also a good friend"…

For the first time in months Luke faced his primal fear: Darth Vader – Anakin Skywalker… Could they be the same person…? What would the consequences be?

Ever since Bespin Luke had fled like a witless nerf from facing the question, fearing an avalanche of consequences should he dare to stop. Now he stopped. If the avalanche swept him away so be it; but he'd have the truth first.

Vader had feelings too; he had reached out for Luke, even if only for his own, perverted ambitions, but he had still reached out. And he had suffered at Luke's rejection. The Dark Lord of the Sith might be a monster, but still he wasn't _as_ monstrous as Luke had thought, as fear had made him seem. A living being breathed and pulsed somewhere in that metal stronghold. And Vader hadn't killed Luke when he had a chance. He had faltered, his _emotions_ having prevented him from acting when he had the chance.

Emotions…

The emotions of a father. Towards a son…

Responsibility…commitment…choices…

What if… the choice was not only Luke's, but Vader's to make too? What if the Dark Lord wasn't unredeemable?

Right at that moment the chrono started beeping and Luke jumped. He reached out to shut it down, and stifled a curse: he was in for his shift and he hadn't managed to progress one bit in the planning of his mission.

He _really_ needed pull himself together!

. . .

Some time later, Mara left her cabin, checking the log a last time. Skywalker was two hours into a four-hour shift on the flight deck, Brie had just checked in on hers. Perfect.

Moving easily through the corridors, she used the Force to sort out the by passers and delaying her step if she met anyone she knew closer. She timed her pace to reach Skywalker's corridor when it would be empty. She held her breath; _now…_

A door opened and a cleaning droid came buzzing out from one of the cabins. It turned heavily on its metal wheels and moved on to Skywalker's room, using its unique access code to open his door. As the droid rolled in, Mara dodged neatly in behind it. She smiled wickedly. _Who needs access codes?_ All she had done was to hack into maintenance and check out the timetable for the droids. Too many people ignored droids.

As the small cleaning droid began its task, Mara took a good look around her. The cabin was small and cramped despite belonging to a senior squadron commander – just like Brie's – the Alliance sure didn't waste resources on pampering its officers. A small bunk, a cabinet, one chair and a table, shelves… that was it. What surprised her was the amount of datapads and flimsi; the shelves were stuffed to capacity, the table overflowed onto the floor**. **The droid cleaned around the piles, emitting occasional beeps of disapproval and frustration.

Mara stepped to the wall to study a few holos plastered onto it, simply but diligently. There was one picture of Skywalker and the Princess looking back at the viewer, mischievous smiles gossiping they were up to no good and another one of Solo and the Wookiee, grinning at the _Falcon_'s holochess table. The Wookiee had a screwdriver in its hand, Solo a bottle of Whyren's Reserve. Then group holo of Rogue Squadron – Mara eyed the pilots and noted only a few were people she knew, rest of them probably dead – and there was a grained holo of the Tatooine suns setting. There was also a picture of a dark haired man with a moustache, looking straight at the viewer. The last one looked like an archive holo, probably some friend Luke hadn't had a personal picture of but had dug out of the archives, maybe post-mortem. That was all of Luke Skywalker's private life that was detectable.

Turning her attention back to the datapads and the table, Mara's eyes stopped on the information console. This was Skywalket's personal data assembly – and her goal today. He'd been stationary for four years, so if she could open that…

She empowered the console and was immediately met by a pop-up window naming a user and demanding an access code. Mara deleted the user insignia _LSWR_ and entered an override username along with an access code. She knew many codes – codes otherwise known only to system creators, knowledge only Imperial amounts of cash and power could buy.

Access denied.

The more advanced systems of the Alliance, mostly the ones containing military secrets, had been made inaccessible to these kind of backdoors, Mara had tried to slice them, but she was surprised a simple personal computer had been secured so profoundly. She wiped the first and tried a new set of codes.

Access denied. A note popped up, warning that if a third fault was made, the console would delete all data except for saved files in security access department.

Mara leaned back in the chair, indulging an annoyed huff. _Darn!_ There were other codes, of course, but if this stupid computer was secured this well…

Her eyes narrowed. Skywalker's astromech! It must be that little beeper who was behind this. Of all people who did _not_ underestimate droids… She muffled a curse. The cleaning droid finished on the walls and furniture and continued to wipe the floor.

Grudgingly Mara's fingers typed LSWR back in. That was Skywalker's own username. If she could guess his personal code she would be able to get in, it was that simple. Mara bit het lip. She knew him by now - and she was the Emperor's Hand – she could do this.

The access codes had to be ten characters or more, just like her own. It also had to be something personal. Something Skywalker had reason to believe hardly anyone knew.

_leiaorgana_? That was ten letters. _princessleia_? Twelve, still possible. Her fingers didn't move. Everyone knew Skywalker was close to the Princess.

_benkenobi_? Nine letters. _obiwankenobi_? Mara breathed in, slowly, breathed out. Her fingers still didn't move.

Could it be something else completely. His uncle, his aunt?

_anakinskywalker_? That had been the name of Luke's father. The cleaning droid finished the floor and left. Mara quickly checked no one was outside to see her when it rolled out, then turned her attention back to the console.

She almost, almost typed the latter, but held back, something in her gut whispering she still wasn't on the right track. Mara's eyes were drawn to the holos again. The twin suns…? _twinsuns_? Eight letters. What was the name of those suns?_ Tatoooneandtwo_? _Tatootatoo_? She bit back a curse and forced herself to think, sense… Her eyes wandered slowly back to the holos.

Who was that dark haired young man? A fellow Rogue? He watched out of the picture, eyes on the viewer, smile easy and open but gaze watchful. A strong, earnest face. His picture was slightly apart from the others, close to the twinsuns. Could he have been from Tatooine too? Mara frowned, something pricking at the edge of her memory.

Suddenly she recalled Dantels' words, the unexpected revelation from the reserved smuggler still ringing in her ears; '…Tatooine-boy. I fell in love. But he died at the Death Star. I stayed here to look after his best friend.'

'his best friend'…Skywalker?

What was the name of the man Dantels had loved? Mara searched her memory; her Master had always focused on memory techniques and this wasn't the first time she was grateful for that. _Biggs Darklighter_!

Could the access code be _biggsdarklighter_?

She turned back to the console, hands rising… then stopping again. What was a name? Private guy or not, would Skywalker use his friend as part of a security mechanism? Or would he differ between the man and the memory. _Darklighter?_A Tatooine name. A Tatooine boy, just like Skywalker himself. What had he been to Luke? A friend, a light in darkness?… his memory was still living…

She typed: _darklighter_.

The pop-up window blinked, dissolved – and she was in.

A satisfied smile slipped Mara. Was she the Emperor's Hand or was she not?

She scrolled the files for almost an hour and found loads of notes and information on worlds, geographics, survival, military strategy, all things familiar. One file looked like the coded name for a mission but she ignored it – she has no interest in the operation he'd be going on with Brie – _let that redhaired reptomammal deal with that task alone_. There was also a lot about Endor… _Endor?_ Mara scrolled on.

What really caught her interest was a neatly sized dataregister, filled with information about the Old Jedi Order, information she had thought lost, wiped out in the past twenty years of Jedi purges. _Skywalker must have used a great deal of time to gather that together._ All the information was marked with 'source,''content/facts,' 'trustworthiness' and 'own experience'. A detailed schematics and description how to build a lightsaber served as an example of Skywalker's methods; 'Kenobi' named as source, the content detailed and 'on experience' revealing clearly that Skywalker had built his own lightsaber on a visit to Tatooine some months ago. _Of course, he lost his first one on Bespin, along with his hand…_

Skywalker had even managed to get a few pictures; one of Mace Windu, another prominent Jedi Master from the old Order, two pictures of Obi-Wan Kenobi and no less than four of Anakin Skywalker. There was also a schoolbook picture of a "Jedi" that made her smile; it looked more like a flimsi doll than anything else.

Yet, nothing she found gave her any concrete help. Nothing would tell who had trained Skywalker, whether he'd been trained at all after Kenobi's death or if he'd been in contact with any surviving Jedi. Also, there was no personal diary or anything else that could give an additional key to Skywalker's personality. Even the file concerning Anakin Skywalker looked exactly like the others; the only difference was that Mara could see it had been opened considerably more often. She clicked on a picture and studied it; Anakin Skywalker had been a handsome man; straight backed, a bit somber-looking, just as his son was.

Closing the picture again she checked the size of the files against each other. It gave no guidance; the file containing information about 'Yoda' was the biggest but that was no wonder; she knew that the alien Yoda had been the most prominent Jedi Master of the Old Order; so it was logical there must be most information available about him, even after twenty years. Still, the file was _much_ bigger…

Biting her lip in frustrated concentration, Mara opened for the advanced comparison possibilities; those only slicers new how to use. After some hesitation she ordered the computer to show a comparison of data according to what was marked as 'source' in the documents. She eyed the information that rolled before her eyes. _Luke Skywalker_ wasn't a possibility under 'source', neither _LS_, neither _me_. There was, however, _1_. At first thought, she had believed the number referred to 'first priority' or similar, not least since there also was _2._ and _3.…_

What if _1._ referred to 'first hand information'?

She checked the files marked with _1._ and the computer started scrolling reference; _Kenobi, Yoda, Yoda, Kenobi, Yoda_… Mara frowned. Kenobi was the only teacher she knew for sure that Skywalker had had, which fit well with _1._ standing for first hand information. But it was something different with Yoda. As far as Mara knew, the Jedi Master had died at the time of the Clone Wars. Could he have survived? Was _he_ Skywalker's secret teacher?

Mara moved on to check the contents of the files. If her theory was right, Anakin Skywalker shouldn't be anywhere marked with _1._, but with _2._. Anakin had been Kenobi's apprentice and surely Skywalker must have drawn on Kenobi for information about his father.

She was rewarded. There was a great deal _Kenobi_ marked as _1._ in the Anakin Skywalker files and the nature of it hinted towards first hand information. Kenobi had told the young Jedi about his father. "Good pilot, good friend, cunning warrior…" Mara smiled briefly, then frowned as her eyes noticed quite another first hand source of information: _Darth Vader_.

Darth Vader? Why in Kessel had Skywalker discussed his father with Darth Vader? "Turned to the Dark Side" she read aloud. Had Darth Vader told Skywalker that his father had turned to the Dark Side? To a Sith? But she had just read…"killed by Darth Vader" – source: _Kenobi_.

Puzzled, Mara hurried to check back, on how frequentlySkywalker had opened the _Dark Side_ file. To her surprise the entire file hadn't been created but recently. Just after Bespin, she noted.

Time! Of course! She hurried to ask the computer to tell her the timeline of update of the files. It turned out that the Yoda file had only had a few notes before the same date, almost all was of recent origin – and all of them after Hoth! _Gotcha!_ Mara grinned to herself. Now, if _this_ didn't interest her Master…

She hurried to copy the Jedi information to her own datapad – no harm studying it herself. Saving the information carefully, she pocketed her datapad, cleaned her traces, closed the terminal and slipped out of the cabin.

. . .

"…should be a good thing that the kid has some lady company," Han complained to Chewbacca as he hung head down in one of the_ Millenium Falcon_'s hyperdrive hatches. "But then he just _has_ to pick someone Leia doesn't like. How typical is that?"

Chewie growled something and Han looked up. "What do you mean you've never liked her smell? Hey…!"

The Wookiee grunted again and Han calmed a bit. "Ah, _her_ smell. All right. Yeah, well, but if she's good enough for the kid…?"

Chewbacca gave his friend a sideways glance but neglected to answer. Instead he barked another question.

"No. No idea," Han admitted gloomily. "I dunno, Madine's more stubborn and reactionary than an Imperial Moff. I can't understand why they pointed _him_ out to lead the Special Operations. Hand me the hydrospanner, will ya." He reached his hand up and back and Chewie placed the tool in his hand.

"I mean, it's not that I _know_ he won't let me get that job." Han continued, still without looking up. He paused a moment to fasten a teasing screw, then went on. "I just feel so weird when he just stands there glaring that morose glare of his, not speaking a word despite me lining up the entire plan and all what I've made of thoughts in the matter. Not a smile, not a nod, not nothing. He's as fracking sour as a Chipitakian lemon. Not even the big chief Imps at Carida were that surly." He gave the screw a final twist, then held out the hydrospanner back over his back. "The smaller one. Size 0.3."

Chewie didn't take the spanner, and Han waved the tool impatiently behind his back. "Hey, hurry up, ya big dust bunny. We haven't got all day."

Chewie answered with a muffled 'goink' and Han almost tipped over, balancing as he was on the balk. He spun around, as well as he could on the on the thin beam, and was faced with Madine's impenetrable features. The General had come in soundlessly and was now tapping his hand with the datapad into, regarding Han with furred brow. Chewie stood by the side doing his best to look innocent, and for being a Wookiee, he did a pretty good job.

Through Han's mind flew the final confirmation that he could wave good bye to the Endor-mission as well as to ever impress Leia – at the same time as he tried desperately to remember how long he'd been talking without looking and when he last had mentioned Madine's name. After all it _might_ be that the General hadn't realized that Han had been talking about him and…

"A hand, Solo?" Madine wondered dryly, reaching out.

Han took the extended hand and, gaining his footage, allowed himself to be hauled up by the General. Back on his feet again he straightened, offering a grin.

Madine's eyes narrowed. "Spare your smiles, Solo. I know you were talking about me." Han's smirk died instantly.

The General continued. "But I'd be a lamentable officer if I'd let my personal opinions interfere with my professional judgement. Not to speak of if I'd let _your _personal judgements hamper it…" He paused and handed over the datapad wich Han automatically accepted. "Therefore, it's still my duty to inform you that the Endor mission is your responsibility now. You will meet at my office in two hours to discuss details. Each and every detail is still strictly confidential. It won't be a tea party, but then I trust you know that."

"Hate tea parties anyway," Han got out as he glanced at the datapad.

"You are trusted with the most important mission in the history of the Rebel Alliance. Do not let us down…" He turned and already started his exit when he held his step to add over his shoulder… "General."

Madine left the ship, still frowning but the howling yell that a few moments later sounded from the battened freighter, was jubilant enough to turn even the corners of his tight mouth upwards. He was no expert on Shyriiwook, but then he didn't have to be; he knew well enough that the animal sound had arose from a human throat.

T.B.C.


	18. Chapter 18

**Quagmire - chapter 18**

**Vixens**

Mara had been looking forward to reporting to her Master, but it wasn't going at all as she'd planned. The Emperor's cold disapproval chilled her to the bone. "_I _know _what Vader and Skywalker were discussing, my Hand. Vader answers to me – as do you. I told you to remain in reserve behind the scenes. Instead you risk everything to gain information that is insignificant at best. I begin to wonder whether the responsibility of this assignment exceeds your capacity for judgment."_

Stubbornly Mara clung to her resolve. She really _had _learned something of importance; she just had to convince her Master of that fact. "_Master, I'm pretty sure that Skywalker has had more than one teacher in the Force. The files revealed that he's also been discussing Jedi matters with someone else as well. 'Master Yoda' was also mentioned, and several times at that. His name occurred as frequently as Kenobi's._"

For a moment, her Master's annoyance seemed to melt away as he imbibed this new information. "_Master Yoda_?"

"_Yes Master. He was listed several times as first hand source – and all the files were dated after the battle of Hoth._"

"_Indeed… And you have obtained information indicating his current location?_"

And that was, of course, the big flaw in this her offensive. "_No, Master. I'm sorry."_

"I have known for decades this Jedi survived the Purge," the Emperor dismissed impatiently. "Get me the location where he is skulking and that will please me."

"Yes, Master. But if we can conclude that Skywalker visited Master Yoda after he left Hoth, before he came to Bespin, I can attempt to find and examine the ship he used on that trip. It was an X-wing starfighter, and if it could be located…"

Her Master's voice was like a chilling breath down her back. "That was done months ago, my Hand. The log of that ship was wiped by Skywalker before he landed on Bespin."

Mara swallowed hard. There had to be something! Skywalker couldn't have wiped every record of the journey from – wiped! Yes! "Have any of Intel's agents had an opportunity to examine his astromech unit?"

"His droid? Explain."

"Master, Skywalker keeps his droid in high regard. He has never wiped its memory, or so I've been told anyway. And as he uses the same droid every time, it is a logical extrapolation that it accompanied him on that trip too."

The Emperor was quiet a long time, mulling over this possibility with evident interest. Still, Mara could sense quite clearly that he was still displeased with her and she braced herself for what would come.

"Very well, my Hand. Forward the task to Agent Brie. Being close to Skywalker as she is now, she will have the best opportunities to get to his droid as well."

"But, Master…" Her heart cried out, no matter how much she tried to restrain herself.

"Or do you perhaps suspect agent Brie is no longer loyal to us?"

For a second Mara wavered, the temptation formidable, overpowering… "_She is loyal to you, Master_," she admitted reluctantly, her honesty prevailing. "_Her attachment to Skywalker is, as far as I can judge, not of deeper character."_

"Good. If Agent Brie fails, you will be the next in line to Skywalker, but you will act on my command, not on your judgement. I sense that judgment is not as clear as it has been, my Hand. Have care…"

Mara felt her throat strangle, all too clearly remembering her imbecile, rash invitation for Skywalker to read her mind – a detail she wisely had omitted from this report. "Yes, Master. I'm sorry."

"_Very well..."_ He fell silent again. "_Skywalker will come to me. Yeess…I have foreseen it. And he will turn to our side. We will turn this to our advantage."_

His voice in her mind softened a bit. "You are at loss, child, but fear not. Soon we will speak again, face to face. For now, you must remain strong. Keep your faith."

"Yes, Master."

She managed to keep her faith as long at it took the contact to break. Then tears welled up inside her, tears that were dried before they even reached her eyes – as it always was with her. She had never felt so alone, never so desperate. Her Master had always taken care to inform her, to share his knowledge, but not so after her failure at Tatooine. She knew he was disappointed with her, she knew she had to prove herself, but how could she when her only task was to watch and wait?

Lying on her back in the closed bunk, Mara stared into the pitch blank darkness and wondered, for the first time in her life, if she truly had deserved all this.

. . .

"Hey, Luke! How'ya doing!"

Luke looked up at the familiar voice and broke into a genuine smile. He hadn't seen Lando for a long time, so completely had the ex-smuggler and now ex-baron been committing himself to his upcoming assignment – an operation that might be nothing less than the Alliance's decisive clash with the Empire.

"Hello, Lando," he greeted. "I've been wondering where you've been hiding." The last thing Luke had heard about Lando was that he'd gone a on a scouting raid with Tycho Celchu, presumably to Endor. Officially, Luke hadn't been told anything of course, but even if he'd never deliberately read the thoughts of the people around him, there was only so much he could keep away; the minds of some of those in the High Council weren't exactly quiet.

Lando grinned. "Well, as you can guess it's all a big secret. So if you wanna hear about it, we'd better go some place other than a ready room." He winked playfully at a couple of squad pilots playing sabacc on the next bench.

Luke smiled, already infected with the easy mood Lando always managed to radiate. "I'm on call so I can't go far."

"How far can we get? This is a space ship! Besides, the Chaos is practically just around the corner."

Luke shook his head. "No way. But I can move closer to my ship – and the_ Falcon_'s right on the way."

He turned to one of his fellow pilots, "Uh, Kasan, would you do me a favor… "

"If there's an alarm I'll click you, sure Luke. I wouldn't do it for anyone else, but for you – everything!" Kasan winked and blew him a kiss and Luke blushed. Since he'd finally caved in to Shira, the other girls had extended their friendliness to a degree he'd never have been able to handle before – and in fact had problems with even now. Apparently, now that someone had staked a claim, he was free game for the usual sly innuendo which was what the girls considered "friendly."

"A girl on every deck these days, Luke?" Lando bounced his eyebrows, casting an appreciative glance at Kasan, but Luke only nodded at her and hastened out of the room.

. . .

Chewie was on the _Falcon_, his hairy head completely engulfed in an overhead compartment of the hyperdrive. He bent down to wave and grunt a greeting as Luke and Lando entered the ship, but didn't stop his work. The two friends strolled to the main hold, brewed cafs and seated themselves at the holo chess table.

"Where's Han?" Lando inquired, glancing around.

"Either he's with Leia or he's working on something of his own. I'd guess the latter but don't ask me what it is."

Lando nodded, having a pretty good suspicion of what _it_ was and pleased on his friend's behalf. "Is this 'don't ask' because you don't know, or because you do know?" he asked playfully.

"I don't _know_, not technically."

"Ah, only those Jedi hunches. Reading minds must be pretty handy."

Luke made a grimace and tried to take a sip of his caf – it was still burning hot and he grimaced again. "Mostly it's just awkward. And I don't walk around _reading_ people's minds, I just can't help but pick up emotions, sometimes even stray images if they're very powerfully broadcasted."

"But you _can_ read people's thoughts, can't you?"

Luke thought about Mara and had to mutter, "Yes." Though he had made a conscious effort to stay on topic that time and only checked her for her involvement in the fire.

"Well, that's what I thought." Lando pursed his lips. "And you suggest that Han's business is… confidential?"

"Actually, I think it's so confidential that even Leia doesn't know about it."

"Ah!" Lando smiled knowingly. "Oh, what love can do… And on that topic – I hear that _you_'_ve _caught a fox!" He leaned comfortably back on the couch, stretching arms behind his neck.

Luke blushed again. "Uh, well…" He fidgeted with his caf, at loss for words. Everybody seemed so genuinely pleased on his behalf. Rather more than he was himself, in fact.

Lando quieted, watching his friend intently as he closed in around his cup, then sighed and shifted countenance, that smart, self-assured mien smoothing away and him becoming just… well, just Lando.

"You don't look quite as love-drunk as rumor would have me believe," he observed.

"Of course I – I mean – I really like her - a lot," Luke protested, straightening. "How could I not? Shira's wonderful, really she is! If I seem a bit confused it's just because…" He trailed off, unsure.

Lando sipped his caf quietly, waiting.

"Well," Luke tried again. "I knew Shira was interested in me but she was also my subordinate and that made a relationship between us out of the question. I just kept her an arm length away and didn't really try to figure her out; the less I thought of her the better, I told myself. Then she got promoted and got her own squadron, but to tell the truth I still thought it was a bad idea. I mean, I have too many commitments at it is. So I really tried to keep her at a distance. But then it just…well, slipped."

Lando snorted into his cup and Luke couldn't help a crooked smile. He rubbed his head in embarrassment, but knew Lando had heard worse – hell, had probably _done _worse. "And now… well, it's wonderful, really. Shira's an awesome girl, spirited, beautiful, brave…"

Luke hesitated. "It's just that I still feel like we're in the same limbo, only on the other side of the line, if you understand what I mean?" He glanced expectantly to his older friend.

"Actually, no. I don't understand a word," Lando admitted affably, reaching out for a sweetcake.

Luke rubbed his temple. "Well, we've been together for a week already. I'd thought Shira and I had become intimate by now."

Lando stopped crunching, his's voice going up. "You're not intimate?"

"Not emotionally." Luke told him flatly. "I'd have thought we'd be talking about things, about us, but it's like the physical side consumes all time we have – and then we just fall asleep." He blushed anew. "And if we have time to talk it's about what's going on around us. I don't feel I _know_ her one bit more than before we started to… well, to be together." Months ago, Shira had told him about her background; how her family had been destroyed by the Empire when she was a little girl; how she'd grown up on Shalyvane, doing what she had to survive. But the whole past week they had hardly touched the matter.

"Ah." Lando continued on his sweetcake, chewing at it alongside Luke's words. "Yeah, of course you would want to _know_ her…" He scratched his chin in thought.

"Well, she _is _my girlfriend," Luke pointed out a bit confused.

"Oh, that's less relevant, I think." Lando waved elaborately with his left hand. "Most people hang out in relationships without ever knowing each other. And then one day they wake up and think: was that _it_? And they go apart. That happens all the time."

Luke started to protest but Lando continued. "But you wouldn't want that, of course. You're different. You don't put on an act. You are who you are and if that's not enough you bite your teeth together and plunge on anyway."

"And why's that wrong?" Luke asked.

Lando's face got a strange look. "It's not wrong. Not at all." He paused, for a second almost embarrassed. "It's… well… good. A good thing. If more people were like you this galaxy probably would be a better place." When Luke stared at him he hurried to add. "Leia's that way too. Makes me see why Han decided to stay."

"Right…" Luke shifted on the bench, aware that Lando showed a rare, soft side here. "Well, I don't think I could 'pretend' convincingly even if I wanted to. You make it sound like you put on a show or something."

Lando turned the cup in his hands, his eyes on the floor. "Every single hour of every single day."

"Oh." Luke blinked in surprise. "But what's the point of that?"

The gambler shrugged. "It makes things safer. The less others know about you, the less they can use against you." He paused. "Still, with your Jedi hunches you should be pretty good in peeking behind the scenes."

"I told you, I don't around reading people's minds!"

"No. But as you said, you pick things up. And _still _you feel you don't know Shira?"

That hadn't even occurred to Luke. Shira was charming and high-spirited, yet he picked up far less of her emotions than other people's. It _was_ odd.

Lando watched him closely. "Well, I could be wrong of course, but sometimes it takes one to know one. And if you want my take, Luke, your Shira has never shared one tiny piece of herself, not in a relationship, and not with anyone else either."

And suddenly it all made sense. The many months Shira had been hitting on him; his own, strange reluctance to get to know her closer… _She's been_ shielding _herself somehow, subconsiously! And I sensed it. Only, I didn't know that I did because I didn't know what to look for._

But where did that leave them now? Luke, for sure, had no idea how to pretend a relationship – to him it had always been all or nothing. Whatever this was he had going with Shira seemed to be someplace between the two.

But was that what she wanted? And was that what _he_ wanted?

And how much was he prepared to throw in to change it?

. . .

Some strange feeling of loss drove Mara to the Chaos that evening. Her cabin was just about the last place she wanted to be; the refuge of the greenhouse had effectively been shattered by her encounter with Skywalker and Deena wouldn't be out of the medbay before the next day. And for about the first time in her life, Mara had no wish to be alone.

Chaos did the trick. Only about ten minutes after her arrival, Hobbie Klivian and Wedge Antilles came strolling in, Klivian giving her a crooked smile in passing. "Hey, Ginger."

Mara didn't even look up from the datapad she'd brought with her. "Hey, Cyborg." Her comment caused both men to chuckle and after a slip to the bar to get they beers they came strolling back towards her table with well-trained nonchalance.

"Mind if we sit down?" Antilles wondered casually and Mara had to suppress smile. The way her mood was, Rogue company was probably the best she could have – Rebels they might be but these guys were _fun_ - and besides that, these two were probably Skywalker's oldest squadron mates. If she could bring the talk further than the usual jibing and banter she might find out useful things about her target.

Of course, she showed nothing of her delight. "I could get _worse_ company, I guess," she grumbled instead and moved just slightly to make room.

"Hey, listen to that," Hobbie nodded to Wedgeas he dumped himself into a chair. "Coming from Jade, that's a declaration of love."

Mara gave him a glare that silenced him effectively but Wedge picked up the mantle right on cue. "Well, we thought you looked like you needed some… gingering up. And we're always ready for the rescue." He had seated himself on her other side, pinning her in between them.

"How gracious." Mara rolled her eyes. "I knew that the rescue thing was something your CO excelled in but I didn't know he'd infected the rest of the squad."

The two men exchanged quick glances and Mara was attuned enough to decipher the flash of protectiveness. She'd better take it down a notch. If she wanted to get something out of them about Skywalker in particular they had better keep the tune light. The Rogues didn't mind having it out among themselves, but she wasn't one of them.

"I don't know about you guys," she smoothed over, "but I don't like feeling indebted. Perhaps it's different for you who're constantly out in danger – you'll always get another chance to pay back. But all I can do is to fix your fighters and that I'd do anyway since that's my job…" She shrugged, looking the other way.

The vague tenseness of the two men eased immediately. "Hey," Klivian told her, "don't you even think about that. Luke would be truly embarrassed if he'd knew you went around feeling you owed him anything."

"Yeah," Wedge supported. "And he's so used to saving other people's butts that he's most likely forgotten yours was among the monthly quota. Just don't remind him and you're in the clear."

That triggered an earnest smile from Mara. "Now, for once that might be advice I could use," she admitted. "Actually, I'd like to think that when he stops to speak, that's because he likes to keep contact, not because of his sense of duty."

Both men chuckled at her comment. "It might be both, actually," Hobbie admitted. "Luke's sense of duty is… indefinite…" He glanced to Antilles for confirmation.

"Indefinite, yes. I think that might just cover it." Wedge confirmed, snickering.

This conversation was looking promising, Mara realized. She decided to try to push her luck. "You guys have a high regard of him, don't you?" She intentionally omitted any mockery of her voice or body language and let an earnest note sneak into the conversation.

They went for the bait immediately. Hobbie gushed, "He's the best Squad Commander in the Alliance – "

"You mean in the _galaxy_," Wedge stated unblinkingly. "And give him a couple of years, the experience that goes with it and a bit of feedback and he'll be the best Commander of anything."

"And then he's a pal too," Hobbie expanded. "Best mate a man can have. Except me of course - but I mate even better with you girls."

Mara ignored the last comment. "Well, he confuses me sometimes," she trolled. "One moment he's so solemn and restrained, the other I catch a glint of a much more daring guy, someone's who can be downright cocky at times. And yet I'd bet he's shy if anything."

She hit the trigger with that. Both men opened up and started to pour their opinions.

"He _is_ shy. And restrained. And cocky. All things at once." Wedge asserted. "Once he was only shy or cocky, depending on the occasion, but his self-discipline has increased over the years. Nowadays that's what you see most of the time, but that's only part of the truth. The _real_ Luke is much more complicated."

"Luke's at his best when flying an X-wing. His best – and most himself. If you haven't seen him flying, you haven't seen the man." Hobbie stated.

Mara pricked up her ears. She _hadn't_ seen Skywalker fly – was that the missing brick for her to understand his puzzling character?

"I dunno," Wedge retorted thoughtfully. "There's something of the same going on nowadays when he wields a lightsaber. He just stops…I dunno, thinking, perhaps, and just _acts_. It's pretty stunning, really."

Hobbie frowned. "It's a long time since I saw him do that, and back then it wasn't anything spectacular; he just kept frying his butt with stray laser beams. But already back then, the man could _fly_."

"True, but he's learned a lot since," Wedge maintained. "I saw him the other week – against nine seekers. He hardly broke a sweat."

"Nine?" Hobbie's voice went up? "Ok, _that_ I'd like to see! Do you think he could hold against an entire squadron?"

Wedge shrugged. "Hold? He'd take them out. And stop for caf on the way."

Mara listened, trying her best to maintain her impassive countenance. Now, this was valuable information. She'd known Skywalker was good, but not this good. And she couldn't help but get her curiosity excited by Wedge's appraisal. Skywalker had destroyed the Death Star, of course, and hence _had_ to be a good pilot, but Mara hadn't thought of him much in those terms before. To her, he was first of all a Jedi, and as such he hadn't been exceedingly impressive so far. Perhaps she had sold him short?

Before she had time to query to the matter, a shrill whistle sounded through the Chaos. Looking up she saw a bunch of other pilots approach, including the topic of their discussion - _and_ Brie. Mara's slowly rising mood dived in a sharp loop.

A few moments later the table was crowded to bursting and Mara was arguing with herself whether she should leave immediately or after a short while. Whatever mood she was in right now, it certainly wasn't in Brie-mood and the other woman looked gallingly satisfied with herself, clenching as she was in Skywalker's armpit, head tilted self-assuredly and that wry, peeving smile pasted to her face.

In contrast, the Jedi was modest and a bit self-conscious too, clearly not used to playing Siamese twin with someone. Mara couldn't help wondering what he was feeling, deep down, whether Brie's blatant attention still didn't bother him on some level. Sensing Skywalker's perturbance, she decided to give the evening one chance more. Her cabin was still all but inviting - and maybe, just maybe, she could provoke something out between the happy couple.

...

Luke was anything but at ease this evening. It had been Shira's idea that they'd socialize a bit and he had reluctantly agreed, more to please her than because he thought it sounded fun. He was caught up in too many mental wrestling matches to want _anyone_'s company right now - yet, here he was.

And here also was Mara Jade, who had managed to shake him so thoroughly the other day – a fact he wasn't prepared to share with Shira, and consequently was forced to hide from her. It bothered him – and why did he have this feeling Jade would have enjoyed it if she'd known? Luke fidgeted and tried to make himself comfortable on the crowded bench. What was it about that woman that kept stirring him up?

Everything was made worse by the fact that for some reason Shira and Mara had decided to take a dislike to each other – he had no idea what had happened between the two women but the animosity was almost palpable. Jade was hiding behind her usual cool facade but he could sense her scowl though the Force. Shira on her part, was almost bristling with barely restrained energy and Luke had an uncanny feeling it would come out sooner or later.

It turned out to be sooner. Hardly had they all got their beers before Shira leaned in and spoke to Mara, an expression of innocent curiosity to her face. "Forgive me for bringing this up, but Luke told me something puzzling. He said that you were a _dancer _at Jabba's Palace. Is that right?"

Luke winced. It was _him_ who had slipped that information in the first place. It had seemed like such an innocuous piece of information when he'd mentioned it, just an offhand comment when Shira had enquired details about the rescue of Han. But now, 'dancer' suddenly got a double entendre and Luke couldn't help suspecting that Shira was perfectly aware of this.

Mara was no doubt aware of it but as usual, didn't even flinch. "I was. Why?"

Shira shrugged lightly. "Well, I was surprised, that's all. You somehow… don't give _that_ impression here."

Mara looked coolly at her. "Let's get one thing sorted out," she replied. "I've danced professionally in many places - and for many people in the galaxy. I'm proud of my art."

"What?" Hobbie Klivian broke in. "Are you saying you're actually a professional dancer? Wow, I had no idea." As could be expected, he seemed in no way bothered by the ambiguity; probably it just added to his interest.

"Me neither," Wes Jansen chimed in. "I _love_ dancing! I might have tried to become a professional myself."

"Then, why didn't you?" Hobbie enquired, turning to him.

Wes bobbed his hair. "Oh, I had problems enough fending off women as it was. How would it have turned out if I really had started to expose how stunning I am?"

That made everyone laugh and Luke silently thanked the Force for Wes' infailingly good spirits. Once he and Hobbie started, the ball just kept on rolling.

Shira, however, wasn't ready yet. "I'm sure we all know you have hidden talents, Wes. But I was just so surprised about our friend Jade, here." Turning back to Mara she continued, "You appear to be so… skilled… in so many ways? Where did you pick all that up?"

Mara narrowed her eyes. So _that_ was Brie's strategy. But if she thought Mara could be frightened or threatened into backing her up, she could think again. Mara lifted her chin, her eyes glittering with daring. "Oh, long story. The story of my life really and you'll have to forgive me for not dealing it out here. But I can spill that I've danced for the Emperor. I was told he was… impressed."

Her comment brought all heads up, not surprisingly, and a murmur went through the assembly. "You've actually _met_ the Emperor?" Wes was asking, eyes widening. "Wow!"

For a second Mara's heart jumped; had she been too bold?

Luke on his part, decided to grab the opportunity to talk abut something else than Mara's dancing. "Leia has met him too," he put in.

Mara gave him a sarcastic look. "I'm _so_ glad I have something in common with Princess Leia."

Not expecting a jibe from that side, Luke pulled a face and looked away. Mara relished her revenge. _Let the Jedi sweat; he's the one who babbled to Brie! _

But Shira wasn't yielding yet. "So the Emperor was… impressed? By your dancing I take it? Or…?"

"I don't know how well he understands dancing." Mara replied coldly. "But I can assure you it wasn't my dress that made the impression."

"Oh, I didn't think that either. Most dancers I've seen didn't have much on them anyway," Shira giggled light-heartedly and Luke winced again. This wasn't Shira as he knew her and to see her like this made him flinch.

Mara, however, was sparking into fire. If that faithless little floozie of an agent thought she could get Mara to look like a tramp, she could think again. She wasn't here to be walked on.

She leaned back on her chair, deliberately slowly, letting her hands trail down her hips as she watched Brie with narrowing eyes. To her satisfaction she noticed from the corner of her eye that Brie's eyes flickered the fraction of a second to make sure she wore no firearms. Mara smiled maliciously. "Funny you should say that," she commented, voice acid. "I've noticed many people suffer of the delusion that a dancer can't do without a fancy dress, but I assure you; a good dancer can captivate her audience clad in anything. Even a mechanics coverall."

Brie lifted her chin a fraction, smart enough to consider her next move but Wes Janson, of course, went for the bait like a slashrat for a killball. "Hey! Any chance you'd dance for us tonight?"

"Sure," Mara replied, voice soft as the hum of a vibroblade. "Ask me, and I will." She had them all, she realized. Everyone at the table had their eyes glued to her and the silence was affecting those at the nearby tables as well, people starting to turn to look what was happening.

Wes blinked and looked in bewilderment to his buddies but it was Wedge Antilles who actually realized she had set one single condition. He rose and bowed, giving her room to get up from the bench. "Please, Miss Jade," he said loud enough that his voice carried to the closest tables as well. "Would you do us the honor of dancing for us tonight?"

Shira straightened slightly but Luke used the opportunity to reach his arm out, pulling her to a close hug and thus pacifying her momentarily, his eyes on Mara. He didn't need the Force to know Shira was bristling but he was determined to calm her down – and to give Mara a chance.

Mara rose in one fluid movement and pulled out the pins from her hair. Slowly and deliberately, she shook out the red gold tresses, giving them plenty of time to uncurl against her back and shoulders, already concentrating on gathering the attention of the audience. She didn't have many effects to fall back on in the stuffed, noisy mess, especially not clad in baggy green mechanics, so she had better use what she had. Fortunately, there was no music sounding over the beaten up sound system, and as people one after another fell silent around her she lifted her arms again, satisfied now that she earlier had rolled up the sleeves of her coverall to her elbows, thus leaving hands and wrists visible.

She took three steps away from the table, then stood absolutely still, centering herself, eyes half closed, body tensing for each breath. Then her foot twitched, starting up a soft, simple beat, barely audible and forcing the now alert audience to pick up their hearing and sharpen their senses. Simultaneously, but with only a fraction of that pace, her hands began to drop, wrists turning about, fingers moving as pulled by gravity, yet resisting like had they their own mind. She let the tapping of her foot grow in volume, the resistance of her arms transform to futile wing-strokes, head twist around, fall like her hair was pulling it down by its weight, then with a quick, smooth jerk pulled it back again.

She took one step, just about to let the other follow, then jolted back, arms still following the recent pull, her body and limbs creating their own gravities, counterflowing, intermingling. As she gradually let her movements expand she could hear someone picking up her pulse in a light tap against a table. A step more, two; her body writhing in seemed conflict, a pivot around her own axe – and the steady tapping had increased, several in the audience now captivated by the cadence of her moves. As the pulse steadied to a beat, Mara could allow herself to leave the rhythm, let her movements take their own lead, her body to drift with its impulses, trusting her own skill to bring her back to control with grace again to fixed point. In the end, however, as the tension and eagerness of the audience grew to claps and cheers, she gave herself free, leaving her bench mark and throwing herself out in pivots and leaps, the latter causing a surge from the audience.

And suddenly it was over – Mara pulled in and returned to her starting point, body still, arms raised and head resting against her own shoulder. The Chaos erupted into standing applause.

As she gracefully curtsied and thanked, Mara stole a glance at Shira Brie, no longer in the armpit of Skywalker as the Jedi needed both hands for applauding. Mara smiled maliciously. _When it comes to charming men it's not all a question of curves and breast measurement, Miss Bigbosom_.

Luke, too impressed to be able to find words and therefore losing himself in ovation, looked at Mara and wondered what had changed so wonderfully with her; then he realized what it was; a tiny smile curled the corners of her lips. It wasn't much, but it reached her eyes, those otherwise hard, cold stones, changing their expression profoundly: there was a light in them now that made something in his belly make a silly little twist.

"That was magnificent, Mara," he breathed, trying to press in his appraisal between the others talking when she returned to the table. "It really was."

Her eyes twinkled. "Nothing like a good show when you need to take people in, Skywalker. Often it gives more than you bargained for." She reached out for her beer and swept the rest of it in one mouthful. "See you later guys." With a smirk and a wink she turned and headed for the bar to pay her drinks.

"Saw that?" Hobbie pointed out. "She _smiled_! She did! And that makes _twice _actually, to Wedge and me before you all got here. Now who's won the bet?"

"I have. She smiled more at me than at you," Wedge argued.

Luke didn't follow the outcome because Shira leaned back with a barely hidden snort, her mouth thinning of annoyance. Luke looked questioningly at her and noticing his glance she muttered, her words meant for him only. "That show-off! She did that just to prove her point."

"You provoked her," Luke pointed out quietly.

Shira turned sharply towards him, eyes blazing though she still kept her voice down. "And you? You certainly couldn't take your eyes off her!"

Luke made a face and decided to bring the matter up at some other time when Shira was in a better mood.

It took Mara quite a while to reach the bar to pay for her drinks, so many wanted to congratulate her for her dancing and ask all kind of questions. She tried to answer them as politely but curtly as she could, silently wondering whether she had pulled _too_ much attention to herself.

When she finally had managed to pay and was heading for the exit she was caught up by Brie who admonished her in a low-voice. "We should co-operate, Jade, not compete. Just thought I should point that out."

Mara's expression didn't change one whit. "Great. When I fancy a threesome I'll let you know, ok?"

With that she walked away, smirking in complete satisfaction.

. . .

Leia too, left the Chaos smiling. She had stood just inside the other entrance, her original business to find Luke and talk with him. She'd hoped to find him without his new girlfriend but in fact it had turned out to be the sour look to Shira's face that had made her stay and see Mara's dance through. When it was over, she withdrew quietly, grinning as smugly as Jade had been. To tell the truth, right now she didn't care whether Jade was a professional dancer or even a spy for the Emperor himself.

She had just made her day.

T.B.C.


	19. Chapter 19

I'm overwhelmed by the feedback - thank you so much everybody! I hope you find next chapter enjoyable too - though it certainly isn't Mara's finest hour...

As always - thanks to _frodo _for her wonderful help!

Oh, and rating for this chapter is **M**

* * *

**Quagmire - chapter 19**

**Spontanity and complications**

Eleven days after the fire, Mara found herself standing on one of the smaller hangar decks, hands clenched to fists behind her back, trying hard to find a face to go with the situation. She was already regretting her harsh attitude and barely-hidden barbs towards Deena and even more all the good advice she'd failed to give her in the name of keeping her cover intact. In retrospect, she was pretty sure that she could have taught the girl a few tricks without giving herself away. Deena surely wouldn't have smelled the womp rat - and now it was too late. The blonde Etti-girl looked so small and vulnerable in the midst of the team of hardened soldiers.

The team was small. The farewell party in one of the several portside hangars was even smaller. Only Luke and Mara had come to say goodbye, and there was a good chance they were the only ones who knew the team was leaving. Somehow, Mara felt it odd she would be the one Deena had entrusted herself to. But apart from Skywalker and herself, Deena had no close friends aboard Home One. Mara didn't know whether she felt good or bad about that.

Deena and Antilles were the last to linger on the ramp, talking to Skywalker, and Mara walked to them, giving the former a big if somewhat awkward hug. Antilles gawked at her, clearly astonished she even was there. "Holy Hoojibs!" he exclaimed. "Does this mean I get a kiss for luck from _you_, Jade?"

Luke gave her a surprised look and Mara rolled her eyes. "Sure," she muttered with a sigh of resignation. "This is your lucky day Antilles."

Wedge grinned and reached out for her. But instead of kissing her, he just pulled her in for a hug, then gently pushed her away again.

"I'll settle with this for now then," he told her with a grin, "and save some of my luck. We might need all we can get on this mission."

To the staring Luke and Deena he added: "If we come back safe and sound we know who to thank, right?" He winked an eye at Mara.

She couldn't help laughing. "Right, Antilles, and when you come back safe and sound you owe me a beer."

Wedge shrugged, a flirtatious smile tugging the corner of his mouth. "Maybe, maybe not, but don't think I consider this kiss issue settled yet. When I come back we'll see who owes what to who." He gave Luke a stern look. "And no taking advantage of my absence, you lurker!"

Luke's face changed to a picture of innocence. "Course not, Wedge," he assured, eyes wide, and quickly stepped to Mara, slipped his arm around her waist. "Wouldn't dream of it."

They all burst into laughter and even Mara couldn't quite hold back a chuckle.

Deena was the first to turn serious. Her eyes were almost glossy as she turned to Mara. "It's so sweet of you to come and wave me off! And I've been thinking about what you said the other day – you were so right! I'll try to remember that!" She stuck up her thumb. "Heads up!"

Mara could feel her cheeks warm. "Oh, that… Hey. You'll be fine." Before she could find anything smarter to say she was almost crushed in Deena's embrace.

"Well…" Wedge mumbled softly and tugged in Deenas sleeve. "We'd better get going, right?"

"Right," Deena straightened up. She had tears in her eyes, but at least she was smiling. "See you both soon. And try not to attract _too_ much trouble while we're gone, ok?"

Wedge laid his arm around her shoulders and together they walked up the ramp, disappearing into the shuttle where Jansen and Klivian were already powering up.

Luke and Mara backed away to the necessary distance, watching the shuttle warm up for departure. They didn't exchange a word, but somehow the silence was strangely comforting. Mara wondered if she really was allowed to feel this way in the company of a target, but she couldn't help herself. Despite their obvious differences and their short acquaintance, that uncomplicated girl from a fourth rate planet in Outer Rim had captured her affection, at least as much of it as Mara could give in this mission based on lies and deceit. She couldn't outright wish Deena a successful mission, whatever it was, but at least she hoped whole-heartedly that the girl came back in one piece.

And Mara had to admit she wouldn't mind seeing the cocky Corellian either. She had reluctantly learned to appreciate the rough humor of the Rogues, and to her Antilles, represented the best of that company. Him and Skywalker, that was.

Mara glanced at the fair-haired rebel by her side. His face was composed but she could feel his concern and, yes, his fear for his friends. So this was what it was like, to be in a team and have friends? It meant the fear of loss walked with you every inch of the way. And by now she knew that a man like Luke Skywalker wouldn't have it otherwise. He couldn't stop caring for others any more than he could stop breathing.

Luke turned his head and his warm blue eyes met hers. Mara could feel her cheeks warm and had to turn her head away. What was the matter with her?

"Hey," Luke mumbled. "They'll be back. I know they will." He put his arm around her shoulder, not for a close hug, but just the comforting warmth of another human being in a similar situation. Mara understood that he was just thinking of fear and loss and concern, and that was fine with her. They stood together, oddly unsettled, yet somehow taking comfort from one another as the shuttle lifted on its repulsors and flew out of the port.

Finally Mara stirred, and the Jedi discreetly let her go. "I'd better head back to work," Mara muttered.

Skywalker nodded. "Me too." He turned to leave, a bit too quickly, but slowed again to glance at her over his shoulder. "And you still remember to tell me if you need a hand with anything or just someone to talk to, right?"

"Sure," Mara nodded. "The Jedi for the rescue."

He sighed at her sarcasm and walked away. Mara had to steel herself not to steal a glance after him.

Sometimes - pretty often nowadays - she really didn't like herself.

. . .

As she entered the turbolift Mara saw Nera Dantels approach, rushing to catch the car. Mara held the door open and was greeted by a malicious grin. To see the restrained ex-smuggler sogleeful surprised her into forgetting her own irritation.

"I heard about your head-turning performance in the Chaos the other day," Dantels told her. "Way to go! Two-one to you, Jade."

Rumors spread fast here. Or perhaps that was the case everywhere in the galaxy and Mara simply hadn't been in a situation really to listen to them before. "I take it that you don't like her either," she commented casually, eyes on the panel.

Nera grinned. "Can't stand the woman."

Mara smiled, she just couldn't help herself. "Why's that?"

Dantels shrugged. "She showed up here a couple of years ago and picked out Skywalker as her special prize, just like that. Not that I'd mind that in itself – but I mind her methods! Force help any female who tries to give her some competition. And she's even been trying to come in between Luke and his friends, if you ask me."

"Still, everyone seems to like her," Mara pointed out.

The other woman huffed. "The boys never get stuff like that. The mechs are too happy for her attention, the groundstaff's oblivious as usual, while the pilots – " Dantels shook her head, agitated now. "The pilots are too busy comparing their TIE kill stats and when that little butt-wiggler comes in, competing with them in their own game…" She snorted.

"And the girls?" Mara asked.

Dantels rolled her eyes. "Don't get me started. The airheads don't get it and she's cozied up to enough of the clever ones to cover her back. And the rest are outmaneuvered - she spreads this competitive athmosphere between everyone, despite claiming the exact opposite. If you ask me she's poisoning the entire climate. And now that she's applied herself on Luke she won't let anyone else come near."

Mara nodded thoughtfully. Dantels words fitted exactly with her own impression. And no matter how much she disliked it, she couldn't deny that Brie had been doing some impressive groundwork. She'd had time, all right – but how might it be to be undercover on a mission for so long? Mara herself was getting peeved after only a month.

"It seems to me that Skywalker still has a bunch of good friends left, though. Solo, the Princess, Calrissian, the Rogues…" she remarked.

"That's what's left. He used to be everybody's darling once – now many are a bit scared of him 'cause of those Jedi Powers of his. He disappeared for a long time after Hoth, then came back without his right hand… Never told anyone where he'd been or what had happened. There were rumors that he tangled with Darth Vader… Take all that and pile on Brie's manipulations to get him to herself…" Dantels shrugged.

"But she hasn't tried to come between Skywalker and Solo, has she? After all they're best friends still?"

"She hasn't had the chance so far, I think. That sticks too deep. But she sure has tried to come between Luke and the Princess many times… If I'd been Organa I wouldn't have tolerated it for a second. But the Princess is like Luke there; she believes in the good of people. On the other hand, now that Brie is so close to Luke, you never know…"

Mara studied the hardened but attractive face in front of her, then it dawned on her. "She came between you and Luke too?"

Nera glanced up, sharply. "Not like that," she cut off. "Not at all. And I've known him since the Death Star. Luke is a genuinely great guy. He came here four years ago from a life where he was nothing and had nothing. From one day to another he turned to a hero with everybody admiring him and many doing anything they could to lick his ass. Despite that, he's managed to keep his modesty and pure heart through all that and I really admire him for it. He lost everybody he loved in just a few days; his uncle and aunt, his tutor, his home… and his best friend..." Her voice cracked suddenly and she stopped. Mara felt a chill run down her back, remembering the strong, solemn face from the holo in Skywalker's cabin. Biggs Darklighter… He'd had a strike of that same pure hearted earnestness, the same devotion in his expression as she connected with Skywalker himself, she realized. Two childhood friends, two shared lives...

"I dunno," Nera went on, when she had the control of her voice again "After that, I've always felt I should keep an eye on him." She shrugged. "Well, anyway. Anyone who's making life a bit sourer for Miss Brie is my friend."

She nodded, turned the corner towards her own corridor and disappeared. Mara stood looking after her for a long time.

. . .

Brie was tinkering with her X-wing in the main hangar when Mara passed and she stopped shortly as for a sociable chat. "Any luck accessing his files yet?" she wondered casually. She felt no need to tell Brie that she had in fact already checked those files herself.

A flicker of annoyance passed Shira Brie's otherwise so breezy expression and she flexed her neck. "No," came the curtly reply. "They're coded. They will self distruct if I try too many codes in succession. I need more time."

Mara was careful to hide any sign of the satisfaction that flooded through her. "And what about the droid?" she inquired, her tone still blithe.

She had informed Brie of their Master's last command shortly yesterday but the droid was another thing completely from the computer files. Breaking into it would take both work and cunning. Its systems were clearly highly upgraded, it was constantly on alert and stayed mostly close to Skywalker. Brie of course, might get access to it easier than most but then she'd probably have to wipe its memory pretty thoroughly afterwards – and that would put Skywalker up in arms – a situation that had to be avoided as long as possible.

The other woman gave her a calculating look, the slightest of smiles curling her mouth. "Not yet, but I will inside the next two days." She returned her attention to her fighter. "I'll see to it before we leave for Theenax."

The last was added in a casual tone but the words made Mara freeze completely. "Theenax? But I thought…" she broke off, her eyes widening in sudden, frightful realization.

"That we were going to Bothan space? Oh, no. That was Wedge's mission, the one that left earlier today." Brie gave her a sly glance but Mara hardly noticed it. Her world was suddenly spinning and she fought to put the pieces together.

"I got the information from our friend Antilles," Brie continued casually, lowering her voice but her eyes gleaming with malicious pleasure. "He's got a bad habit of writing key facts down – and one day he was lounging in the Rogue's Rec Room, it was a piece of ryshcate to Force-nudge the datapad to slip out of his pocket. Gave me an insight in where he was going and why. Not to mention with _who_. " Her voice lowered abruptly but Mara didn't pay attention for the nausea that threatened to overtake her. Somebody appeared from nowhere and took her arm.

"Mara? Are you all right?" Stubb hovered at the outskirts of her vision but she shook him away, catching mere snatches of the words he fired at Brie: "what has…? so pale… something to drink?… lie down…"

Brie's voice rang in her ears: _"there will be a rescue mission launching to Bothan space within two weeks. (- - -) They'll be carrying gravity convertors, modulated to pocket size, and use them to surprise the guards. A little trick Skywalker came up with – ( - - -) Another good thing about being close to him."_

And she had connected that mission with the one Brie was going on with Skywalker! And she had _told_… _No, no, it can't be! Tell, me - someone - that this is not happening! That it wasn't _me_ who…_

Deena was travelling straight towards a trap – and Mara had helped set it. _How could I bee so stupid!_ She had believed the gravity convertors were for Brie's mission – when they were for _Deena's_! And Antilles, Klivian and Jansen were going that same way… The thought made her want to throw up. She waved away Stubb's supporting hands and stumbled from the hangar as fast as she could.

. . .

Hours later, slung over the railing of a particularly abandoned catwalk in the aft hydraulic engineering section, her head had stopped spinning and the nausea was fought back to the deepest pit of her stomach. The now half-empty bottle of Dornean brandy had seen to that. Mara hadn't been drunk since her early teens – when she learned the ways of court life the hard way – but at least alcohol still worked as soother. Sometimes, like now, even as an eye opener.

How could she have been so stupid indeed? To let an enemy come as close as she'd let Deena? She should have known better. Kark - she had known better – and still it had happened! Mara took another sip of the bottle. Life goes on, Jade!

And Antilles, Klivian, Jansen… she had genuinely liked the guys! Well, here was where personal entanglements got you. Maybe, just maybe, they wouldn't die straight off – if the trap was set up right they'd be captured only – and maybe, when she got out of here, back to where she belonged, she could use her influence to get Deena out. She wouldn't be able to help the Rogues – ace pilots of the Rebellion were beyond mercy – but an insignificant supply officer was another case. She'd get her out, get her dumped somewhere far out in the Rim and maybe, when Deena finally managed her way back to the Rebellion she'd want nothing but to marry her Corin and settle down, leaving the fighting to others. Yeah. Mara would try to help her with that – and Deena would never find out. Never find out that her best friend was an Imp goon who'd betrayed her. Mara closed her eyes and for a moment nausea made her stomach roil again.

Well, at least she had a plan now. Maybe not a great plan, but something beat nothing. Mara stared at the lightpanel until her eyes started to sting. Another swig of brandy helped her forget the stinging in her eyes too, as it was so damned cheap it burned her throat far more.

The really galling part was that she couldn't even dry this one off on Brie. The woman was a kriffin' Cthon, she had clearly reveled in Mara's mistake – but it was Mara's mistake nonetheless. Rule number one: learn from your mistakes!

Which led her thought to her other mistake – Skywalker. To her annoyance she realized she almost missed the man. He would understand how she was feeling. Understand, and accept, in that unassuming, low-voiced way that was all his –

Accept? Knock off with the spice dreams, Jade! Of course he wouldn't accept her if he had a clue who she was, of what she'd done! She was his enemy for Edge's sake! Mara swung at the railing fully intending to bruise her fist; Force knew she needed a wakeup call if she couldn't even keep straight who was whose side anymore. She had to pull herself together!

What was it that her Master had claimed? Skywalker will come to me. He will turn to our side. Mara cackled madly. Maybe it was alright to like him then. If they wound up on the same side, all her qualms could be dismissed. Of course, her Master had practically ordered her to hop on into his sack if he kicked Brie out, but unlike that glorified little tart, Mara Jade had standards when it came to sleeping with people. Still, if Skywalker would turn, wupti, things would look completely different. Brie, of course, would still be in the way. All the better, it would be give her an excuse to rip that she-garral a new one. She'd bet Vader's last cape she could darn well kick Brie's ass to Tatooine. A very welcome payback too. Mara snickered to herself.

"Oh, lovely lady. Sitting here all alone and smiling by yourself?"

Mara started, not having noticed Lando Calrissian sneak up on her. She hadn't seen much of the man since they'd travelled together on the Falcon, much to her surprise – the way he'd stuck to her back then had certainly suggested a decided interest. Yet, there he was, smiling his well-trained, tooth-flashing smile, wearing that ridiculously elegant cape where everyone else was rambling around in baggy utensils. The contrast made her snort with laughter.

He rose his eyebrows in surpise and before she had time to recover her scowl he had seated himself beside her. "Care to share the reason for your great mood?" he inquired blithely, politely ignoring the half empty bottle in her hand.

"Did I invite you to sit down?" Mara snipped, noticing not without pride that she didn't slur the slightest. If Calrissian though he'd happened upon easy prey here he could think again - her mind was still as clear as ever.

Lando, of course wasn't thrown the slightest. "No, my dear. But drinking alone is never a good thing. Please accept my help with emptying that bottle. Or even better – let me throw this hootch into a trashbin and get you a bottle of Whyren's Reserve instead."

Well, at least the man knew how to talk to a girl. Mara considered his offer for a moment, twisting the bottle between her fingers. "All right. On two conditions."

He smiled. "Tell me."

"One, that you don't start talking sappy or sentimental just because you have something to drink – or expect me to do it." The last thing she needed was him to start prying – or even worse - offer a comforting shoulder.

His eyes twinkled genuinely now. "Acknowledged. And the second?"

She handed the bottle to him. "That you can empty at least half of this rotgut – without making a face."

.

Several hours later she still hadn't managed to either offend Calrissian or make him leave. They had emptied the brandy and dug nicely into his whisky, exchanging opinions of most of the galaxy and of its underworld in particular, and Mara had given free rein to her biting tongue - and still he hung on. The man might be slippery like a jellyfish but she had to admit he had a zest for life. And he was far smarter than he let on.

Mara gathered herself. "I'd better get myself some sleep" she told him. "It's getting late." She rose and noticed to her satisfaction that she wasn't swaying. So much for his success if he'd thought he could drink her under the table!

"It's not that late," Lando pointed out, voice husky, getting to his feet as well. "It's not even twentyonehundred hours yet. If you want, we could still continue this evening someplace else."

"Why did I know you'd suggest that," Mara muttered, stearing away.

He followed her effortlessly, staying a few paces behind, taking the same turbo-lift to her cabin-level. The passageway was empty when they exited the elevator and Mara realized he was still on her tail, ambition unaltered. She turned to glare at him but he only smiled, unoffended, staying exactly far enough for her to not be quite intimidated but close enough to feel that silent pull of attraction, the subconscious call from one body to another.

"My cabin is just a few blocks away," he mumbled, softly. "Oh, Mara, if you'd come with me I'd be honored, raptured, in bliss…" Somehow he managed to sound humble even at this bold suggestion. Like he really meant it. Probably he did too. Meant it now, that was. Tomorrow would be a completely different proposition – she knew men. But then, she couldn't have cared less about tomorrow herself.

She turned her back to him and walked to a window, gazing out at the blinking stars outside it. He followed of course. Mara wondered how much her well-designed role could allow her. She had to be careful not to show too many combat skills, but surely an elbow in his stomach in the right moment wasn't too advanced? Lando Calrissian clearly had played this show on a regular basis, and there was no way she would fall for such obvious propositioning!

Calrissian brought his hands up to her shoulders and rubbed them tenderly. She had to admit it felt good. His touch gossiped of long experience with women and she could feel her shoulders relax under his hands. When he noticed it he moved closer, now he was only inches from her and she felt his breath warm against her neck. Slowly, he pressed his lips against it and she had to suppress a shiver of pleasure.

Neglected for a long time, Mara could feel her body start to respond to Lando's advances and it set her mind racing. There was no doubt that a woman - the kind of a woman she tried to give the impression of being; experienced, hard-boiled and jaded - would follow her desires. In fact that was exactly what Mara had been boasting to Her Haughtiness & entourage. So why should she refrain?

Definitely not for personal reasons. She had grown up at the Imperial court where no one had any kind of morals, unless you clung to old-fashioned illusions like "dignity," like she still sometimes tried to do herself. But what was dignity? Was she just too full of it to sleep with someone short of a count or an admiral? Well, Calrissian was a general if it came to that. He might be a rebelscum of a general, but a general still.

But how would Skywalker react if he heard she had slept with a close friend of his?

Lando's lips slipped along her neck and sucked gently on her earlobe. Mara let out a small moan. His body closed up on hers from behind and she could feel his trembling desire. The hell with Skywalker! What did he or anybody else need to know about it? Lando was a general – he had his own cabin.

She turned on the balls of her feet, eyes narrow, catching his glance. "If you tell anyone, I'll kill you. You got that?"

He gasped, nodded. Mara pierced him with her glare but all she could detect was desire and respect. She slid into his arms and kissed him.

He was a good kisser. Experienced, yet inspired. It hadn't been only hot air, he really seemed taken in by her. It was refreshing.

Someone approached in the passageway and she pushed him quickly away. They were breathless and flustered both and the by passer hurried to move past them, disappearing into the turbo-lift.

Mara grabbed Lando's hand. "We can't stay here. Where's your cabin?"

. . .

Luke was immersing himself into the mission planning and data when he sensed Shira approaching. With a sigh he started to pack the data away. This really was the problem with having a girlfriend; less time to prepare. He knew he had it all settled but he wanted to be certain, had to calculate in the most unlikely possibilities and in order to do that he needed to concentrate…

The door slid open and Shira entered, smiling almost shyly. "Hi."

"Hi yourself." Luke closed the last datapad and stored it into its pile, then looked up. "I thought we had a date at the Chaos in about an hour?"

She actually blushed at that, and Luke could feel himself endeared by her unexpected self-consciousness. "What?" he asked, smiling now.

She stepped to him and let her fingers brush through his hair. "I…" She looked quickly down, then up, furtively. "I just needed to see you."

When he still didn't quite get it, she added huskily. "…alone…"

When she some time later asked him if they should go to the Chaos, he didn't insist.

. . .

Luke saw dim light before him and all around heard a familiar sound, the sound from his nightmares; Darth Vader's grated breathing. The brooding dark figure shielded the light as it had done so many times before in his dreams, and started to close in. Luke switched on his lightsaber and with a snap-hiss a red blade appeared before him. For endless heartbeats, they stared at each other over the crossed beams, then Vader attacked. Luke parried, barely managing to stop the powerful blow and then to get his saber up as Vader's was already slashing down again, now from the left. Luke took Vader's third stroke near the hilt, forcefully pushing down the red blade and then he swept his own up with a vengeance, beheading the tall dark form. With a hollow sound the head rolled to his feet, the helmet opened with a flash and a crack and a familiar face stared out at him…

Luke sat up in his bed with a gasp, violently shivering. For a terrifying moment he didn't know where he was. Then he recognized a regular breathing by his side and when he looked down he saw Shira's sleeping face. Iciness crept down his back, even more palpable now that he was awake.

It was the same face that had stared out at him from Vader's helmet.

. . .

The next morning Mara was in the Mess earlier than normal. Last night no longer appeared in quite as appealing a light anymore. Some stretching techniches and a painkiller had taken the top of the headache and physical nausea but her suppressed qualms were back and their weight hadn't gotten any lighter in her belly. On the top of it, she'd have to meet Lando again too, sooner or later. She definetely preferred it to be later, much later and preferably in a room full with other she'd left him sleeping in his cabin, she'd felt refreshed and sure of herself. It had been delightful to feel a man's body against her own again and Lando – Calrissian – had been an even more skilful and tender lover than she's expected. But from a distance of several hours, he was looking more and more like a mistake.

To her annoyance, Skywalker and Brie showed up in the Mess, also earlier than normal. They arrived hand in hand and looked annoyingly like the Perfect Couple; handsome, neat and well-mannered. At least Skywalker looked well-mannered, and Mara wondered if Brie'd had success bringing out the gualara stallion in him yet. Judging by her self-congratulating smile it looked like she had. Literally screwing around with the guy she planned to murder. Mara munched sourly at her bread. At least she wasn't about to kill Calrissian.

She was only planning to kill his best friend.

The bread tasted like crap.

A group of girls waved to Brie. Mara recognized Stacey and Malina, among others. Brie smiled back and pulled at her lover's arm, asking him something. He shook his head but waved her on to join them anyway. Skywalker himself pulled a bit aside, close to Mara actually and started to study a datapad he'd had tugged in under his arm. Before they parted, Brie and Skywalker gave each other a kiss, just like any young lovers.

It struck Mara suddenly that they all actually were pretty young. She didn't know how old Brie was, but Skywalker was twenty three and Mara herself even younger. It was a period of life when young people in more peaceful parts of the galaxy fiddled around, fell in love, parted under huge drama only to be stormily in love again a few weeks later with someone else. Yet, here they were; choices made already, allegiances pledged; two weathered Imperial assassins and a man with the heritage of the entire Jedi Order on his shoulders. Just dandy.

Mara studied Skywalker who sat cross before her, completely deepened in his pad. He was always so damn dutiful. Perhaps he deserved to have a bit fun, just this once? Besides, if Mara wound up doing the dirty work – and wouldn't that be just like Brie, to have all the fun and leave the mess to her – he would never know that his girlfriend had been out to slit his throat all the time.

If only her Master would contact her soon! This mission stunk like a rotten Tauntaun carcass.

She started when a familiar presence announced its arrival. Lando Calrissian came sweeping in through the doors, impeccably dressed as always and Mara cursed to herself. What in Kessel was he doing here so early? She'd never even seen him at morning meal before!

Of course, he started to look out over the tables, probably in search of her. Mara reached quickly out with the Force. Lando wasn't weak-minded, but she managed to redirect his gaze away from herself. Visibly disappointed, he frowned and reached out for bacon and eggs.

Luke was completely lost in his datapad when Lando bumped into the chair before him. He glanced up, somewhat annoyed. The very reason he'd sat down by himself was that he needed to go over the mission material again before the next meeting with Ackbar, and he had hoped that people would respect his signals.

But it needed no Jedi to realize that Lando was in no way susceptible to fine hints this morning. The gambler was all but boiling with excitement over some private secret and Luke knew that he might as well wave good-bye to his preparations.

Still, he tried. He nodded curtly, mumbled a polite 'good morning' and returned to his pad. And Lando tried too, he really did. He looked down, started to eat, but Luke could feel his excitement as clearly as if his friend been screaming in his ears; it was a constant torrent crashing on his mind and no matter how he closed himself up there was no ignoring it. Finally it became too irritating. He sighed and placed the pad on the table. "Ok. What is it?"

Lando's gaze shot up and a smile spread across his face. He shrugged and extended his arms casually.

Luke rolled his eyes. He knew exactly the meaning of this, having ended up as Lando's secret confidence many times before. "Really?" he stated without surprise. "And who is it this time?"

Lando opened his mouth but closed it again, reluctantly. "Can't tell you. I promised her not to tell anyone."

"Fine," Luke hurried. "And I'm a Jedi. I can't press you."

Lando frowned in circumspection. "As a Jedi, the secret would be safe with you, though…"

"But you said you can't tell," Luke pointed out.

Lando extended his arms impatiently. "Luke, this is killing me! I have to tell someone!"

Luke glared at him. "Either you tell or you don't tell. And if you promised her not to tell, you'd better not do it!"

Lando tilted his head. "With you, there is a way around that."

It took Luke a moment before he got the point and when he did, he rejected it, both hands rising. "No way! I won't peek!"

"C'mon now, Luke! I wouldn't tell and neither would you. No one would be sorry. And you'd really do me a favor…"

"If you can't keep your secrets you shouldn't make promises. It's that easy."

"I always keep my promises! It's just this woman. She's the most…" Lando searched for words. "I have to talk about her with someone! I have to find a way to capture her heart! I don't want this to be a one night affair! I want this to be forever!"

Luke sighed. Lando had him there. Except that it was all twiddle twaddle, of course. Lando fell in love a dozen times a week and recovered as quickly. On the other hand, if he'd already managed to get the girl into his bed and still was talking like this…? There was a novelty to that. And on the more practical side, if Luke didn't comply, Lando would end up telling him anyway and hence breaking his promise. Or even worse, tell someone else. Besides, Luke wouldn't have any peace before he got this away with… "Ok" he sighed. "Show me then."

He reached out with his mind towards his friend's and nearly fell from his chair.

A naked, well-formed female body writhed sensuously under him while he thrusted into her warm core. Her head was thrown back and her eyes half closed in pleasure and her arms pulled him closer, her half-dampered moans urging him onwards…

Luke pulled his mind back like had he been burned and slammed his underarms on the table glaring furiously at Lando. "Don't ever do that again!" he barked.

Lando blinked in surprise. "Isn't she gorgeous?"

"It's private! I thought you'd give me just a face!"

"Can't help myself, Luke. Not with her!"

Luke rubbed his temple and tried to gain control over his mind and body that had reacted instantly. "So who is… Oh gods!" It finally dawned to him who the woman was, her face having been the last thing he perceived.

"Ah ah! No names!" Lando pointed grinningly at him.

Luke found it hard to restore a calm demeanour again. "Was this really thought through?" he finally managed.

"On the contrary! It was completely spontaneous!" Lando beamed like a sun. "I made a frontal charge and she flipped like a cred chip!"

He leaned in over the table and whispered conspiratorially, "It's not first time it has happened to me, of course, but this! It was unbelievable! She's magnificent! An amazing woman, I tell you; passionate, daring…"

"Yes, yes, I got the impression", Luke interrupted. He braced himself. He had a bad feeling about this. Not as much generally, but concerning Lando…"Why aren't you here with her, then?"

Lando looked suddenly sulky. "Don't you think I'd want to? But she slipped away while I slept and wasn't in her room when I knocked. I haven't been able to find her anywhere yet."

Luke's eyes slipped over to Mara who sat diagonally opposite him, only a couple of tables away. Her eyes narrowed to green spitting slits when they met his gaze and Luke winced. He had no doubt that she'd somehow heard the entire conversation even through the distance should have made it impossible. Especially since Lando actually had kept his voice down the entire time.

Luke did his best to retain an amiable sabacc face and Mara glanced away, profile unreadable. Luke focused on Lando again "Just for your information," he murmured quietly, "she's sitting right behind you."

Lando's eyes swelled to Hutt-sized dimensions and he froze mid-bite. "That can't be! I looked everywhere when I came in! I can see the door from here and I have kept my eyes on it all the time!"

"Actually there's two doors in this room, Lando. But she's been sitting there already before you came in." Luke looked again. "And she's leaving now."

Mara had grabbed her tray and was pacing with rapid strides towards the exit.

Lando got up in a flux "I have to talk to her! Now!" He fumbled with his tray.

Luke grabbed it. "I'll take that. You'll better hurry. Just promise, one thing"

"What?" Lando broke flurried in the middle of a motion.

Luke looked at him, deeply serious. "No scenes!"

Lando gave him an offended glance, turned on his heels and rushed after Mara Jade.

Luke sat back with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

.

"Mara! Wait!"

He hadn't shouted loud but she couldn't really ignore it and stopped, impatiently.

Lando came trotting up to her and tried to take her hands. Mara pulled them back. "Not here," she told him stiffly.

He swallowed and nodded sheepishly. She turned and marched towards a more quiet corridor. He hurried after her.

She found a small control room and shooed him inside. Then closed the door behind them. He was there in an instant and tried to take her in his arms but Mara pushed him away, harshly. "I thought I told you not to tell anybody."

Lando swallowed again. "I didn't really. But Luke's a Jedi and…"

"And he wouldn't pry!" she stated hard. "I'll have to give him that, at least. But you are a completely different matter…!

She stared him down and Lando found himself almost shivering. What a woman! She could soften his knees completely! "You are so beautiful!" he breathed. "Please, Mara…"

Mara glared at him in disbelief. The man was completely beside himself. In a flash of clear sight she realized what Lando was experiencing. He had never in his life kept anything but his most holy promises, not before he started to familiarize with Skywalker and his kind. Now, out of the blue, he'd got a higher goal than just dallying around the galaxy for money and women. And now he'd eyed her, Mara, who he believed shared the same story as himself, even shared the connection with Skywalker. He was really ready to declare his eternal love to her right here in a cramped control room. Now she really started regretting her impetuousness the night before.

Simultaneously, anger rushed into her. Lando Calrissian, if anyone, knew the name of the game. She had started out by telling him she would kill him if he'd tell anybody and if that wasn't a sign that she wanted to keep low on this, then nothing was!

Lando was talking. The same mush that he'd served Skywalker. Mara took a deep breath and interrupted him in the middle of a sentence.

"Listen here, Hotshot!"

He belted up. Eyes huge and soulful. For a moment she felt bad for him. He had been really sweet to her last night.

"Ok, Calrissian. You're a nice guy deep down inside, I've seen that much, so I'll put this very clear. Last night was great sex and you were really sweet to me. But that was that. I'm not in love with anyone and certainly not with you. I'm not interested in a relation and casual sex is something I do very seldom and never with the same guy twice. Did I make myself clear?"

She strode out from the room, head high and without looking back.

T.B.C.


	20. Chapter 20

Once again - thank you all for so many sweet replies - even though I keep throwing troubles on my characters. But I can comfort you that some of the trouble will transform into even more trouble in just two chapters time...

And as always - **thank you **to **_frodogenic_** - the best beta in our galaxy!

* * *

**Last minute confrontations**

The launch of his mission was tomorrow. Everything was in place – all neat and planned – even a farmboy should be able to understand that he should concentrate on that and not go out of his way to plunge straight into a gundark's nest.

Then why was he crossing the main hangar straight towards danger? He had its dancing red mane in plain sight.

Before he could reach his aim, however, he spotted Artoo rolling towards him, twittering an eager greeting. Luke halted and waited for him, freshly reminded of his bad conscience. Of late, he had neglected his metallic friend sadly. Shira was obviously part of that; her arrival into his private life had made the droid's presence less welcome in his cabin. Not that Shira seemed to mind – she had, in fact, asked about the droid – but Luke's need for privacy was greater than hers.

There was, however, also the matter of Artoo's private self-assigned investigation into the fire. Luke was both amused by the astromech's ambition and optimistic that the little droid might actually come up with something valuable – it wouldn't be the first time - but he'd had far too little time to follow the case. He knew that Artoo had found several indications that the culprit could have used reprogrammed droids to start the arson and disable the systems, but that was about it.

And it wasn't like the arson was Luke's personal problem – the Alliance had an excellent Intel that surely could manage the task. And Intel was also where Artoo should take his results. Luke bent to read Artoo's question on the the display. "Yeah, thanks. What about you? Have you found out something new?"

Artoo chirruped a quick tirade and Luke frowned as he read the meaning of it. "You're sure about the droids now? Have you found actual proof?"

An entusiatic warble suggested the latter so clearly Luke didn't even have to check. "Hey, that's great!" He hesitated, feeling bad but seeing no other alternative right now. "Listen, I won't have time to look into that right now but I think you should go to Tag in Intel, she's the right one to handle this matter. She's probably buried up to her eyebrows, but if you tell her this is about the arson and that I sent you, she'll listen to you."

The droid let out a sad, resigned tweet and Luke felt a fresh twist of bad conscience. "Yeah, I know – but I'll only be away a couple of days." He got an idea. "Hey, after you've contacted Tag, there's something you could do for me too while I'm away - if you have time, that is. I've updated my Jedi files but I haven't taken the updates to the backup files in the _Falcon_ or to the ones Mon Mothma keeps for me. Could you do that?"

The droid beeped an eager affirmative and Luke smiled. "Thanks Artoo. I couldn't do without you." He patted the metallic dome affectionately and the droid blinked in friendly response.

Whistling a fond good bye, the little astromech turned on its socket and rolled away. Luke followed him, a smile on his lips until the droid disappeared behind a tramsport. Artoo would have accomplished his task within an hour, but at least the droid felt needed again. And he'd have the investigation to pursue in Luke's absence; once the mission was over he'd make time to hear the details.

Taking a deep breath, Luke continued towards the gundark's nest - and towards the mother of all gundarks, more commonly known as Mara Jade. She was indeed in her usual nest of wires and parts, head and shoulders swallowed in a B-wing. She worked hard. The deck officers couldn't mention her without singing her praises, and while her curt attitude kept people at bay he knew that she was regarded with respect, admiration even – since the fire she was one of "them."

That was pretty much the way he felt himself. He respected her seclusion, but he didn't want it. In fact he was growlingly aware that he wanted the opposite – to learn to know her, to find out what really hid behind that closed face and those intent eyes. He had peeked into her mind – twice – and it had only given him a taste for more. He thought he'd seen her mind – and found out he'd only grasped a shape, not the substance, seen a color, not the picture, tasted – but never savoured. He thought he understood her, deeply even, on some, undefinable level – and then she went and did something as incomprehensible as sleeping with Lando!

Luke suppressed a grimace. Not that it should be strange. Lando was a great guy, his best friend after Han and Wedge. And there was a constant stream of women falling for the ex-baron; he was handsome, charming, debonair… It was just that Luke hadn't thought that Mara would ever be one of them. She just didn't seem the type to be swept away by Lando's usual sweet talk.

Still, the problem wasn't - or shouldn't be - that she had fallen for the gambler – it was that she had tossed him away afterwards and left him heartbroken. Of course, Lando had only himself to thank for that; he should never have broken his word to her. But Luke should have tried harder to keep his friend on the right track. Besides, he'd never seen Lando so crushed. So, no matter how he felt about Lando and Mara's liasion, he had to help his friend.

Bracing himself, Luke walked up to Mara. "Hi. How about a caf break?"

Mara looked up, frowning. "Since you ask so politely – no." She turned back to her fighter, leaving Luke to glower at her back.

Still, as he reached out to her, he could sense she wasn't all irritation. There was self-reproach too. He could work with that. Luke's chin shot out stubbornly. "Come anyway. I want to talk with you."

She looked out from her hatch again, more peevish if anything. "About what?"

"About something we need a little more privacy for. Come on."

Instinctively knowing that he'd meet only more opposition if he waited, Luke turned on his heels and started walking away. After a few tense moments came a reluctant clank as Mara dropped her tools into her kit and came after him. He walked briskly but she nevertheless caught up with him before he'd reached even half way, an irritated furrow between her brows – oh, how well he recognized it by now. "Fine. What's so important?" she demanded.

"I just want to talk. There's a caf dispenser near the reserve power cells. Let's go there." She knew, of course, just as well as he did that there were several caf dispensers nearby, but that one wasn't nearly as frequented as many others. He could feel her glare stab his back but decided to let it lie. Getting her to follow him was already a victory; there was no need to rub it in.

. . .

Beeping softly to himself, Artoo rolled the corridors, on his way to make a last control sweep of Supply before he took his report to Intel. Humans were often reluctant to listen to droids – a fact the still-unknown pyromaniac obviously had utilized - but since his Master had sent him, the Intel officer would probably lend an ear. His cross-reference databanks recognized the officer in case, and he had filed her into his memory as a very receptive specimen, but a last survey of the area was always good procedure and the recording could be checked against earlier discrepancies. . Artoo had just rounded a corner when a familiar voice called for him, and turning, he registered the human female his Master had spent so much time with lately, winking to him from a side passage.

"Can you come here a moment, Artoo? I need your help with something."

The little astromech droid chirped benevolently and rolled after her, scrolling his files for likely reasons why the human was in such a desolated corner of the ship. He had never really managed to fit in this female into any of his primary categorizations – and the company _that_ left her in wasn't reassuring. Still, Master Luke seemed to trust her, and Artoo was not going to go against his Master's judgement, whether he agreed or not.

The hatch slid close behind him.

. . .

It didn't take them ages to reach the solitary caf dispenser but Luke felt like it did. He walked derterminedly up to the machine. "How do you like it?"

"Straight – with no fidgeting." Mara replied. When he stared at her she waved impatiently. "Drop the caf and the blabla, Skywalker. Let's get things on the table – what is it you so desperately want to talk with me about?"

"Ah." Luke hesitated a moment, then poured them both a cup anyway. At least that secured them an alibi if anyone came by – and gave him a moment longer to collect himself. To tell the truth, an angry and frustrated Mara Jade wasn't something he was eager to face right now. Force, that woman could take your breath away in more than one sense! Luke settled himself halfway down on a coolant pipeline braced to the bulkhead, the only seat available, and gesturing Mara to do the same. She scowled and leaned gingerly against it, keeping a solid meter and a half of distance between them. "All right. First of all, I guess I owe you an apology."

If he had hoped to placate her temper, he had calculated wrong. Her eyes narrowed even a tad more. "For yourself or for your friend?" she enquired frostily.

"Um, both, I suppose," Luke suggested, trying a smile.

His calculations were still off. "You suppose?"

"Ok. For both of us," Luke corrected and leaned to rest on his knees, continuing before she could break in. "I'm sorry. It was stupid – but please believe me when I say that there was no disrespect implied or intended. Lando and I know each other well – and we've been through a lot together – so confiding to each other isn't such a big thing to us as it might seem to you. Actually you should take it as a compliment. He usually keeps the nerf in the bag better than that – he's simply so taken by you that he had to talk with someone about it."

"And that's my cue to swoon at his feet?" Mara didn't even lift an eyebrow. "He still promised to shut up."

Luke nodded eagerly. "Yeah. So it was wrong of him to tell me. And it was wrong of me to let him do it. We both made a mistake – and we apologize."

Green eyes measured him up and down. "You normally go around apologizing on behalf of your friends?"

Either she was seriously angry or she enjoyed watching him sweat. Luke decided to assume the former for safety's sake. "No, not normally, no. But I think I was so involved I should this time."

"He asked you to?"

"No, not technically…" Luke suddenly realized he had better make it clear that he was acting solo here before Lando started to look like a wimp. "In fact, he didn't ask me at all – but I've never seen him like this before. He's really taken by you, Mara – and he's genuinely sorry. The only reason he hasn't talked to you himself is because he – "

"He has talked to me, Skywalker. He's commed me five times today and finally I answered and told him that if he did it again I would blast his balls." Mara finally took a sip of caf and leaned back in the seat.

"Oh." Luke chewed on that information a moment. "And you still don't feel like forgiving him at all? Mara, he's really…"

She arched her eyebrows icily. "I'd worry about yourself for a few minutes, Skywalker. You assume I have forgiven you already – or you don't think your misdemeanour was so bad that it needed forgiving at all?"

Luke froze, realizing he had probably assumed just that much. "I, uh…"

Mara snorted and for the first time Luke could detect an inch of amusement in her. "Well, count yourself lucky, Jedi - I forgive you. And I'll even give Lando a pass – providing you guys can shut up from now on. And if you can forget all this ever happened." She took a brisk sip of caf more, apparently hoping to empty the cup in one gulp and make a break for it. The caf, however, was still too hot so she had to stop to grimace, sending the cup an evil glare as she did.

Luke would have been happy to let the cup take the brunt of he fury instead of himself, but he had to risk his neck again. "Um, I'm not sure Lando can move on just like anything didn't –"

"Well, then he has to learn," Mara interrupted him. "You're his pal. Give him a hand."

Luke stared aimlessly across the hangar deck, trying to understand the complexities and contradictions of this strange woman. Whatever she was feeling inside, she was clearly determined not to let any of it past that rockhard surface she'd so carefully built up around herself. One thing he was sure of – she wasn't the detached person she tried to show the world. The real Mara Jade wasn't unconcerned but committed, not indifferent but loyal. Her mad plunge into the fire to save Deena had proved it. And Luke had sensed it too; the passion beneath; he knew…! There was a world behind to discover – and Lando had obviously realized the same thing. Luke itched to find out more about her – but how could he when she didn't give an inch?

"Are you sure you're not letting your emotions get in the way of your judgement?" he asked.

She frowned. "Excuse me?"

Luke laid his words carefully. "Well, Mara, for as long as I've know you, and I admit that isn't that long, but still, for a long as I've known you, you've gone out of your way to keep people at bay. Deena is the only one you've let come even a tiny bit through. But are you sure that is what you want in the long run? You're not an apathetic person, the Force tells me that clearly!" Her eyes widened in alarm but Luke continued, "You are a dedicated, ardent person. Yet, you keep rejecting people on a daily basis – are you even aware of why you do it?"

She stared at him, and he could sense something like an emotional supernova from her– apparently he'd hit the nail with something he said. But all that reached the surface was that her eyes narrowed to thin slits and she took her time answering his question. When she finally spoke her words were measured. "You really think I was seriously interested in Lan – Calrissian, don't you?"

She was sidetracking, and not very stealthily, but the bait was tempting enough for him to go for it anyway. "Well, you slept with him, didn't you? Surely that reveals some kind of…"

"Yeah? Like your messing around with Shira Brie?"

Luke straightened, stung. "That's not…" He hurried to pick up his own shields under that mocking stare that made him feel she had some sort of spy network operating inside his brain, reporting his every thought. "That's not what we're discussing here –"

"How convenient!"

Luke's voice rose in irritation. "But I can't help noticing that your automatic dismissal of relationships goes hand in hand with your disregard towards family ties."

Mara clapped her hands in slow-motion. "Where did you get your degree in psychology, Skywalker? That infamous Jedi school?" She straightened, eyes narrowing further, if that was possible. "But as long as we're analyzing, I can't but notice that your disturbance over this fact fits perfectly with your pious attitudes and with your lately revealed compulsive nestbuilding as soon as you can't contain yourself anymore. Well,for your information, some people have no problem acknowledging their sexuality as what it is – an instinct. Just because you're attracted to someone it doesn't mean an established series of emotions follows suit."

Luke was boiling now, but he was also aware the main reason for that was because Mara had managed some good punches. Master Yoda would have been proud of his restraint. "I'm aware of that," he retored, even managing to keep his voice level. "But mature people let these attractions pass as mere distractions. When the attractions are deep enough to cause action, however, then it's a sign of…."

"That's bantha pudu, Skywalker. I know you have a lot of that on Tatooine but I thought these past years of fresh space had cleared your head." She looked away, rolling her eyes. "I can tell you as a scientific fact that I've never slept with the same man twice."

That threw him completeley and he had to fight to find a coherent reply. "Well, to me it sounds like you… cheat yourself. You deserve better."

Mara snorted. "And by 'better' you mean – what? Starting a relationship when you don't want one?" She swallowed the last of her caf but made no motion to move.

"Well, you can't know what you say no to unless you've tried it. If you respect yourself…"

"Spare me! You're going to say that if I respected myself I wouldn't have occasional sex. That's so Outer Rim! Men can have sex with anyone anytime they want but girls who do the same, they 'lack self respect.' Force! The next step of that thinking is that you don't need to respect those girls."

Luke balked. "Of course not. Everyone deserves respect. All I'm saying is that your relationship with Lando…"

"We don't have a relationship, Skywalker. All we had was sex." Luke's mouth clamped shut as Mara continued. "That's what he suggested - that's what I agreed to and when I did, he was perfectly fine with it. If he's gone and changed his mind later on, that's really not my problem." Seeing him open his mouth again to protest, she rolled her eyes."C'mon. What do you want me to do? I don't want him! If I try to put a pretty face on it now, I'll just make things worse. You go comfort him You're his friend."

That made complete sense of course and Luke couldn't really find a reply. He had walked into this discussion in turmoil but found himself in even much more so now. He wanted nothing more than to prove his point to Mara – but he had to secure his own ground before he did, or she'd find the landmine and blow his legs out from under him again. "All right. But tell me you've forgiven him at least?"

She shrugged. "I was never angry with him to start with. I just had to make myself clear."

Which meant he had stuck up his head all for nothing. Luke gave her a pointed glare, aware it wasn't wery successful. "You could have told me that from the beginning."

"And let you miss your chance to patronize me? Not for your life?" She shook her head and pushed up off the pipe, her smile a perfect copy of innocence, just like she had no idea of who'd been taking the beating in this conversation. Then her expression suddenly sobered. "Aren't you going on some mission soon? I heard Brie talking about it some weeks ago…?"

Unlike Wedge's assignment, the timing of Luke's mission was no secret, only the object, so he wasn't surprised Mara had heard about it. He was surprised, however, at the earnest interest he could detect behind her words. "Yeah," he confirmed. "Tomorrow."

"Ah." Mara studied his features and he wondered for a moment if it was concern he could see in hers. "Well. Good luck."

For an instant he got an image of her rising to her toes and placing a kiss on his cheek and he wasn't sure whether it was his own imagination or if the thought really crossed her mind too. Then she turned and walked away, leaving him to his own musings, more confused and troubled than ever.

. . .

Shira was lounging outside the pilot's rec room with a couple squadron mates when Luke got there. He beamed at her, anticipating a warm welcome more than usual after that wrestling match with Mara. Instead she nodded curtly, and her forced smile was only barely there at all. For an instant she seemed to hesitate, then hurried a goodbye to her companions and came towards him with all signs of tension. Luke looked at her with apprehension – more trouble was the last thing he needed now. "What's the matter?"

Shira took his arm. "Never mind. We can talk in your cabin."

He followed her but couldn't hold back his concern as ordered. "Is something wrong?"

She gave him an odd glance. "Well, that depends on how one sees it. And on _you_, I guess."

"On me?" Luke stopped, holding her back by the hand. "Shira, what are you talking about?"

"You should _know_!" There was no mistaking the accusation in her voice now – but why?

He shook his head. "I swear, I have no idea. You have to tell me." When she only glared at him he added a bit impatiently: "And could you please just do it _now _so we can get this over with? I'm tired and you know darned well what happens tomorrow."

She pulled to herself instantly. "Well, if that's how you feel… then…" She shrugged and looked away, visibly hurt.

Luke sighed. "Shira. I want to hear what's the matter. So why don't you just tell me?" He was aware people were following their argument, though most probably could hear only parts of it.

Shira obviously was aware of it too because she shot a distressed glance around. Still, she hurled out. "Well – you weren't too tired to go aside with _her_, were you? What was it that was so damned important?"

For a moment he just stared at her, not understanding what she was talking about. Then he realized it, but even then he didn't get the offense. "What? With _Mara_? Why?"

"You went away with her!"

"Yeah. So?" Shira only glared and Luke finally began to understand what it all was about. "I needed to _talk_ with her." What the hell happened to Shira when Mara was involved? It was like she switched on an entirely different personality!

"Oh, yes, _obviously_ you did! About what?"

Luke's mouth clamped shut. He couldn't tell Shira what he'd been talking with Mara about – and certainly not here with half the ship as audience. _Oh, stang! When did things become so complicated!_

"I can't believe this," he finally growled. "Are you telling me that you're jealous because I _talked_ to another girl? Shira, you can't be serious! That's not like you at all!"

Shira's chin went up. "You can talk to whoever the hell you want – except _Mara Jade_! You practically _ate _her up with your eyes the other day in Chaos! A tech claims she saw you hugging her in the portside hangar yesterday - and now you disappear with her for hours – "

If it hadn't been so distorted Luke would have laughed. "That's ridiculous! I didn't disappear with her for hours! Look, you can't believe I'd be _cheating _on you! You don't think that – not _you_!" It seemed completely absurd that Shira – self-assured, sassy Shira – would even think such a thing. But there was an unusual edge to her – a fervency of feeling that told him just how much she meant it. She kept looking at him, less accusing now, but far from convinced. Luke took her arm. "Ok, c'mon. You're right. Let's sort this out somewhere more private."

Thoughts raced through Luke's head as they headed for his cabin. This was certainly the last thing he needed – but instead of blaming Shira for getting upset – or blaming Mara for upsetting _him_ – shouldn't he blame himself? If Shira was jealous, Wasn't that proof that Luke hadn't given her enough attention? Mara had more than insinuated that she didn't believe in Luke's feelings for Shira – and if she could get that impression as a bystander, what must Shira think?

And he knew that he _hadn't still_ commited himself to this relationship like he should. According to Lando, Shira hadn't either, but wasn't her jealousy a sign that she needed something deeper? Mara Jade could state what she wanted – she was wrong! Allegiances were good! Commitment was important!

Everything he'd been tussling with lately passed through his mind as they walked; emotions… choices… responsibility… Enough wavering!

The door to his cabin hissed closed behind them and Luke turned instantly towards Shira. "I'm sorry if you feel you can't trust me! What can I do to prove you're wrong?"

Taken aback by his blunt approach. Shira stared at him for a long moment. Then she pushed him aside, almost irritated and continued into the cabin. "Prove? Kriff, Luke, I don't know! Okay? And when did I say I didn't think I could trust you?"

Luke shrugged. "Well, you implied it." He refused to let her push the issue aside; this was going to be settled now.

Shira spun to face him again, throwing her hands out. "Look, I do trust you, ok? But I don't trust her! She's a man-eater. I've seen how you look at her, you and all the other guys when she walks by. And you never miss an opportunity to talk with her, even after we've started to be together. And the other day in the Chaos – when you were just drooling after her…" She gestured helplessly.

Somehow, that moment of helplessness touched Luke much more than all the spunky attitude she usually showed. "Hey, all the guys are drooling after you too. Don't I know? I've been watching you from aside for ages." He smiled. "Besides, you don't think I can steer clear of Mara Jade? I was pretty good keeping even you at bay, wasn't I?"

She looked aside. "Sometimes I think that you're still doing that."

Stang! He'd been right! Shira wasn't as careless as she tried to seem – she cared – and she had sensed his barriers! Luke sighed, dropped on the bed and patted on the place beside him. "Come here."

She came, hesitantly and as she sat down he wrapped his arm around her. "I know. And I think you're right. I've been… having too much on my mind. I'm sorry. There's been Wedge's mission, our mission, all this big upcoming thing with the fleet gathering…" He fell silent, wandering, weighting – how much could he tell her?

"You've certainly been very tense."

"I have." Luke made a quick decision. "Shira, I'll have to go away for a while."

Her eyes widened. "But the mission is tomorrow."

A small chuckle from him despite it all. "Yeah, I know. But I need to leave again as soon as we come back."

She eyed him, curious. "Where will you be going?"

Luke sighed. "That, I can't tell you. Not you, not anyone – but it has to do with my Jedi training." He looked her straight into her eyes. "I know it's pretty crappy to ask you this but… please don't ask me about it."

Shira licked her lips, uncertain, then finally nodded. "Okay. Just one question."

Luke tensed again. "All right…?"

"Does…" She hesitated, then visibly pushed herself to continue. "Does it have something to do with Vader?"

The shock numbed him completely for long seconds. "How did you…?"

Her eyes went to her hands, folded in her lap. "You talk in your sleep. I'm sorry Luke, I didn't want to pry but…"

"It's ok, it's ok…" Luke took a calming breath. With one single question Shira had exposed all his vulnerability, had reminded him of how much he kept hidden from her, from everybody. He wondered how much he had revealed in his sleep. "No – and yes. You know that I encountered Vader after Hoth. I will have to confront him again one day – and I need to be ready."

"And this trip will help you get ready?" Shira didn't sound exactly convinced. "Luke, sometimes I think this all this Force stuff… I know you want to become a Jedi but… Is it good for you? You lost a hand last time you battled with Vader. What will you lose next?"

He could lose much more of course, more than he cared to think of. Still, Shira's question seemed strangely petty in the middle of a civil war – especially coming from a sister-in-arms. Luke shrugged. "Maybe my life, who knows? But that has nothing to do with the Force. It's this war – it's not exactly good for any of us!"

"No, of course not." Shira bit her lip again. "But I was thinking of... even worse. What if you lose yourself?"

A new chill run down Luke's back. "What do you mean?"

She looked straight at him. "I don't know. You tell me. What is the Dark Side?"

Luke made a grimace and let go of her shoulder, slumping back on the bed.. "Stang - I really talk a lot in my sleep, don't I?" He ran his hands through his hair.

Shira winced. "You do, Luke. Sorry."

Closing his eyes for a moment, Luke wondered how much he should tell her. How much he even could tell her – there was so much he didn't even understand himself. Shira nestled down beside him, wrapping her arms around him. At least she was prepared to hear him out. He took a deep breath, searching for words. "The Dark Side is the part of the Force that Vader is wielding. It flows through anger, through fear and hatred. It's quick and easy – but it corrupts and destroys those who use it."

"So… it could corrupt – you?" Her voice was merely a whisper.

"It could." It's the truth. Why deny it? "But a Jedi doesn't use the Dark Side of the Force, only the Light. It can be hard to tell the difference sometimes, but that's exactly why I need to go away – to learn more." He turned to look at Shira. "Vader took my hand, Shira – but that was all he got. He tried to lure me to walk the dark path – but he didn't succeed. I promise you he will never do that!"

She didn't seem convinced by his fierce assurance but fiddled with the fabric of his coveralls. "Are you sure? Competely sure? I mean, I know you can't know about the future – but are you sure he didn't… infect you… somehow? With the Dark Side? That would explain your nightmares, wouldn't it?"

And wasn't that what he had feared all the time? Luke looked at her taken aback – and even more surprised by the complete clarity that filled him at that straightout question. "I'm sure," he told her. "That's not how it works." He really was certain – and he hadn't even realized when it had happened. Maybe I just needed to say it out loud?

She eyed him suspiciously. "How can you know?"

"The Force tells me," he replied simply.

Shira rose on an elbow. "But if it's the Force that's cheating you – how can you trust what it says?"

"It's not the Force that cheats, Shira. The Force is." Luke pondered on the matter a moment. "But when using it, we sometimes cheat ourselves."

"So it can lure you into traps? Luke, I'm not sure…"

"Not like that either," Luke interrupted her. "It's possible to know the difference between Dark and Light when you're calm, at peace. But the Force is much more than that; it follows your command – but it also guides you. Sometimes it speaks clearly, sometimes you have to listen carefully, sharpen you senses – sometimes you even get things in riddles." He looked to the ceiling, and a sudden, impulse come to him. "Like that dream I've been having about Vader."

Shira caught her breath, fixating on him. "Tell me about that dream."

"I'm in a cave – it's dark and damp and there's shadows everywhere. And I face Darth Vader. Just like I did on Bespin. But this time I cut his head off and it rolls to my feet with a hollow sound, the helmet splits in two and out from the mask I see my own face staring at me."

For long moments Shira was quiet, staring at him. "What are you saying?" she murmured. "That you dream you're Vader?"

"That's the essence of it, I guess," Luke admitted. "It's my greatest fear – has been for a long time. I fear that I'll become like him. Ben told me that Vader was human once. Vader was his apprentice, but he chose to follow the Dark Side. He gave up all friendships and commitments and chose to give in to fear, anger and hatred, to his own lust for power."

Commitments.

Luke turned his head to look at Shira, stroking away the hair falling into her face. She was incredibly lovely, lying there beside him, her eyes wide and worried. But when he reached out for her in the Force he could still not grip her – and he was sure it had something to do with the things Lando had talked about. She too was keeping herself detached. But she needed more – her jealousy was if anything proof of that – and so did he.

"I guess I've come to realize it's time for me to commit myself," he murmured. "I've been living in fear for months – but the only way to conquer them is to face them. Shira, I don't want to run anymore. It's time to stop – and take a stand." He swallowed and continued, still striking her hair. "That dream… Last time when I dreamed it, it wasn't me at all. When the mask split I saw… it wasn't my face. It was yours."

She couldn't have looked more terrified if she'd screamed straight out. And for once he sensed – really _sensed_ her feelings straight through – the chilling, ravaging and for an instant freely flowing dread that filled her; mortified, paralyzed fear. She stared at him in stunned silence, awaiting his next words.

Luke didn't break their gaze. "It's only a dream, still… It's also the Force, telling me something. And while it could probably be interpreted many ways, I know for sure one thing already. You're hiding behind a mask too, Shira. And you're terrified that someone will break through your defenses. Have you ever let anyone through? Ever?"

Her eyes were still as glazed, almost petrified, but something far below moved at his words. _Something_…

"Shira," he murmured. "You know how I resisted you for a long time. And I swear, I didn't know why, myself, but when I now look back it's so crystal clear, it was exactly this – I knew, I _felt_ that you were hiding. And you're _still_ hiding. But if we want this relationship to develop we'll have to stop doing that. We have to dare. _Both_ of us. Don't you see – commitment - there's no other way."

"What do you mean?" Her voice was a mere whisper.

"I mean, that if we don't give this relationship everything, if we don't show each other our true selves, then this will end in a nothing, very, very soon. This is our chance, Shira! You're a passionate and amazing woman, don't tell me you want this to be half-measures! If we don't give all we have to make this work, then we'll regret it for the rest of our lives." He reached out with the Force again, touching her – and understood that she was shielding her emotions! How she'd learned to do that so effectively was beyond his comprehension but people could learn so many things out of need – why not that too? This time, however, he kept the pressure on her mind enough to be sure she felt his touch. "Do you see?" he whispered. "You keep me out too. But you don't have to, Shira. I'd never hurt you."

She almost trembled, eyes wide, frightful. "Luke…"

He pulled her into his embrace. "I'd never hurt you," he repeated.

Her head buried into his shoulder, muffling her voice, but he felt her fear very clearly, now he knew what to look for. "How can I trust you?"

"At least trust this; I want to take this further. Shira, I want to give us a chance, a true chance." She lifted her head again and their lips met – and for the first time ever, Luke could sense something in her give way; a spark ignated – like a wild hope – and the fire flared as the kiss grew deeper. When their mouths finally parted he had to gasp for breath – and stared right into Shira's burning eyes. "Shira…"

"I want it, Luke. I want it too!" She breathed passionately. "I never thought…" She broke off to tear at the coveralls, his and hers, frenetically, with a carving need that burned everything else away. Luke hurried to help her, relieving them of clothing at frantic speed, questions in his mind melting away by this first time ever – straight contact between them.

She never thought anyone would see through her defences, would accept… He did not know what, but right now he didn't care, the flames shot too high for that. Still, he tried to still himself, understand… "Shira…" He broke off with a muffled moan as she wrestled him violently onto his back and straddled him pinning his arms to the bunk. "Shira…" He tried to release his arms but she dug her nails into his wrists so hard he let out a little yelp.

"C'mon!" she breathed. "You like it rough!" She kissed him again and sucked his lower lip, hard.

Sensing her expectations he grabbed her wrists in turn and rolled her to her back, looming over her. Her eyes widened of desire and a hungry, sensual smile curled her mouth as she made futile effort to break lose of his grip. He pressed his body against hers and she arched towards him, their hard breathing mixing in with the deep kisses.

Was this how a Jedi was supposed to love? This almost brutal desire, this…?

He dismissed the matter, letting his doubts suck into the roaming fire. It wasn't hard at all.

T.B.C.

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**Quagmire - Chapter 20**


	21. Chapter 21

**_frodogenic_**: thank you - you're the best!

Huge thanks also to all you reviewers! You're such an inspiration and joy!

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**Quagmire - Chapter 21**

**The Mission**

Get in. Steal a Lambda-class shuttle. Get out alive. Important mission? Yes - but also piece of cake for four experienced rebels.

Then, why did he have a bad feeling about this?

Luke tried to convince himself it was just the fact that he wasn't used to things going well. They had sailed through security at the Empire's personnel transfer base in Breibara System; the false IDs and clearance codes had worked perfectly and there hadn't been a ghost of a problem in joining the crew of maintenance mechanics shipping out to the Thenax System and Aderon Station – a small, backwater facility that handled minor dock repairs for the Empire's small craft. No one had asked inconvenient questions and the security system hadn't sniffed out the small arsenal of weapons that Luke had smuggled in, broken down into components small enough to hide (as long as you could manage to forget the cringe-inducing portions of your anatomy where you'd hidden them) and then covertly reassembled over the course of two visits to the 'fresher. They had arrived at the Imperial outpost in the morning, actually _ahead _of schedule. Within an hour Luke had found an unmanned computer station, hacked into it and re-arranged their duty schedules so that Shira and Alph would be on shift together six hours later when Captain Kraeft arrived in the Lambda-class shuttle they'd be stealing.

Just to put the whipped cream on top of the ryshcate, Kraeft had arrived on time to the minute, astonishingly punctual even for a Captain of the Imperial Navy. If the plan was still working, Shira and Alph had the craft secured by now. Luke and Thorben were scheduled to relive them on duty in twenty minutes, hence rendezvousing them all in the shuttle with minimum attention.

It was all going so right that, for the last hour, Luke had been feeling steadily sure that something had to be extremely wrong.

But he couldn't for his life pin down what it was.

For the umpteenth time, Luke glanced over his shoulder down the empty passageway, causing Thorben to frown uneasily and adjust his stolen mechanics coverall. "Are you…"

"Sensing something? No."

"Well, that's good, isn't it?"

That was the thing with Thorben. He admitted straightout that he didn't understand a thing of "that Force stuff," but he supported Luke's senses to the hilt anyway, the rock of the squadron.

Luke shook his head, more uneasy than ever. "It should be, shouldn't it? But I sense… I don't know, too _little_, really. This whole place seems blurred, Hanc. Something's not right."

Thorben gave him a worried look and Luke gritted his teeth against the nagging fear that the thing not right was himself. He had gotten used to sensing everything around him. Like a constant background hum of life. But here at Aderon Station that hum was wobbly, somehow, and when he extended his mind he felt nothing as often as something. He shook his head, trying to clear it. Now wasn't the right moment to doubt himself.

"Let's check with the others," Thorben suggested. With a wary look around to check they were still alone, he punched his com on their coded channel, voice carefully casual. "Shira?"

"Hi, Hanc." Her use of Thorben's first name was their prearranged signal that she could talk freely. "Are you ok?"

"All systems go. You?"

"Flying high," came the confident answer and Luke let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. At least she was fine and full of fire! He reached out with the Force and could sense her familiar presence, guarded and tense, but that was of course only natural, the circumstances taken into consideration. But where was Alph?

"Great. Just checking." Thorben was already grinning in relief but Luke sure wasn't. _What about Alph? _he mouthed. "What about Alph?" Thorben repeated.

"He didn't com you? That's the one minor snag. He was pulled off duty. The Deck Officer didn't want two new arrivals doing repairs on the captain's shuttle at the same time. I told Alph to walk in a circle and join you guys."

So something _wasn't_ as it should be. Soon they would be three newcomers moving together – definitely something that might attract attention. Especially considering an officer was already paying attention. Never good. Luke glanced at his chrono. Seventeen minutes to rendezvous. Thorben asked, "What about that DO?"

"I'm sure Ace can butter him up in no time," Shira ribbed.

Thorben and Luke exchanged amused glances. "What about the shuttle crew?" Luke inquired, leaning closer to the com. "Are they still on scene?"

"Really Ace, what do you take me for? A rookie? They're on lunch break for the next hour, and my new colleague is going to wake up four hours from now in the cargo compartment of a transport droid. You just get yourselves past that Deck Officer inside the next twenty minutes and the shuttle is all ours."

"Except for getting out of here and past a Lancer-class frigate," Thorben reminded her. "It's still in orbit." He shut the com down and looked questioningly at Luke.

Luke still wasn't reassured, even though Shira seemed to be. He frowned and again reached out with his senses. Much of the station was still a strange blur to his senses - he felt far fewer presences than he ought to, even for a station this small - and he couldn't sense Alph _at all_. His gaze flicked to the chrono. Fifteen minutes. "I still don't feel sure about this," he told Thorben in a low voice. "I'll stay and wait for Alph. You continue to the hangar and wait for us there."

Thorben did his best not to look worried while he disappeared down the corridor. Luke slowed his pace and stopped in plain view of a security cam, taking a lengthy time to search for something in his pouch. Pulling up a datapad he keyed in some commands, pretending to read what came up. In reality he was constantly searching with the Force, trying to detect Alph's presence. He wasn't successful. He did, however, sense some upset minds nearby. Twelve minutes. There was still time. After some hesitation he returned the datapad to the pouch and started back up the corridor, towards those agitated minds, figuring that was the best way of gaining information. He hadn't walked long before he heard voices, low but charged. Luke turned a corner and faced a party of five mechanics in fierce murmured conversation. He recognized one of them from the transfer shuttle they'd arrived on. "Hey," he greeted casually. "What's up?"

All of them looked up but only the man he recognized bothered to answer. "They've caught a Rebel infiltrator, here – on this base – and only minutes ago."

"The hell they did," snorted a thick bald mech with the look of someone who'd been here for a decade and very much resented it. "Y'all been snortin' too much spice – "

"The only spicehead here is you," one of the other mechs, a short, burly man with a brown beard, retorted. "I saw him myself. And it was more like half an hour ago."

"No kidding." Luke willed his voice to stay level. _Dear stars, don't be Alph, don't be Alph..._ "What happened?"

"Well, I was just leaving the mess and up comes a squadron of soldiers from Barrack Five, pushing a stretcher," the bearded tech told him, clearly enjoying the spotlight. "And there was the Rebel - right in front of my eyes! Big hole in his chest and eyes wide open. I asked them what the heck was going on and they said it was classified. Obviously he'd put up a fight. I didn't see that but Protie had been there and he said the man hadn't had time to fire one shot before he was down."

"I'm telling y'all," drawled the bald man, "it warn't no fracking Rebel. Probably just another death stick junkie who got ratted out and then jumped the bucketheads when they came down on him – "

Barrack Five – Alph's berth was there. "Down," Luke asked. "How down?"

"Deader than starfish in the Dune Sea. I swear, he was staring straight up. He had a real dark face, so the whites were, like, _bam_." The bearded man rolled his own eyes halfway up into the sockets to demonstrate.

Dark face – that _was_ Alph then. Luke suppressed a shiver. What had gone wrong? How the hell had they found out? And how _much_ had they found out?

"Hey!" the tech Luke knew realized. "There was a dark guy on our transport in here, remember? You think it was him?"

"Could be," Luke managed. "Wow, that's scary." He silently thanked the Force for standard Rebel procedure – everybody in the strike team had sat far apart on the inbound transport and made sure not to talk more with each other than with anyone else. Only Luke had risked that a little later on, when he was sure people were comfortable, and had started an easygoing conversation with Thorben. It had earned him an annoyed glance from Shira, but she'd been sitting too many rows away to do anything about it and he'd felt he needed a pretext to move around with Thorben at a later point. He glanced at the chrono. Only seven minutes. He had to get back to Thorben. There was no predicting what could happen now – and seven minutes was not much time.

He found Thorben waiting for him in the passageway, just before the hangar. Apart from them, the corridor was deserted. There hadn't been an alarm. No sign of any station alert either. Five minutes.

"Alph's dead," Luke muttered as he caught up.

"Stang! What happened?"

"He was shot. I don't know why. They might have been on to him."

Thorben's intake of breath was so sharp it was nearly a whistle. "How can that be? But still there's no alarm..."

Luke shook his head. "No idea. But I have a bad feeling about this." He reached for his comlink but just then a party of techs appeared down the passageway, coming their way. Instead of talking he turned his back to them, giving the com a click. After endless seconds a single click came back, confirming Shira was still all right.

"Think they know we're here?" Thorben breathed.

"I dunno." Luke glanced at his chrono. Three minutes. "But we better get going." He reached out with the Force towards the hangar and was only partly relieved to sense a steady buzz of life from it; a pricking feeling ran along his back too, gossiping of danger ahead - and they were walking straight towards it.

They entered the hangar. There was the Lambda shuttle, straight before them. With its wings locked into upright docking position it looked like a huge, elegant insect. The hangar was lightly manned – only a few techs and a handful of guards spread around and apart from the Lambda, and just one other ship. It was obviously being loaded – crates and barrels were stacked below it, waiting to get a lift from a cargo transporter now trundling across the bay. Luke turned his attention back to their targeted shuttle and reached out with the Force again, expecting Shira's familiar presence - but felt nothing.

Nothing at all.

Luke gasped , freezing completely in shock. "Stars! Thorben, I think…" He broke off, hand going to the comlink again, giving it a frantic click. Only seconds later, a single click answered, just like before. Thorben gave him a confused look.

"_What _do you two think you're doing?" an angry voice snarled not a foot behind him.

They pivoted around in unison and faced a thin man in lieutenant's uniform a few steps away, lips pursed in what looked like a permanent expression of disapproval with a suspicious frown to accompany it. Thorben was already on the ball. "Engine Maintenance Technicians Thaxen and Bord reporting for duty, Lieutenant."

"Two new men – again?" The officer looked anything but pleased. "What is this? A migration? This is against all security rules. I have to report to my superior."

Luke managed to collect himself and waved his hand in front of the man. "You don't have to report to your superior." He hadn't sensed the officer either. _Too much on my mind... I have to... But if Shira..._

The wiry officer pulled himself up straight. "What? How dare you? What's your number?"

On reflex both of them glanced at the chrono on the hangar wall. Two minutes left! But was Shira even on the shuttle now? Luke made a new effort. "You don't need to know my number."

"I certainly do!" the officer barked, his cheeks flooding with almost-purple indignation. "I don't know what's going on here but it stops now! You two come with me! Immediately!"

He turned on his heels and started towards the ops room. Luke met Thorben's arched eyebrows with a desperate shake of his head. "I don't know what's happening! I can't get a clear sense of anything!"

That was an understatement. The truth was, he realized while speaking, that he couldn't sense a thing. The familiar hum of the Force had gone completely dead. He felt like he'd been blinded and deafened at the same appalling instant. He took a shaky sidestep and almost bumped into an automated cargo transport that came humming from behind them.

"We need to get on the shuttle," Luke muttered. "Now! I just reached out towards it and I couldn't sense a thing – I still can't. Something must have happened to Shira."

"What? But she clicked –"

"Anyone could have clicked," Luke reminded him grimly.

"But what could have happened to her?" Thorben hissed confused. "I can't see any traces of a fight here. How can…"

"Didn't you hear what I said?" the officer snapped, turning about again halfway to the ops station. He gestured towards two guards, positioned some twenty meters away.

Luke exchanged a quick glance with Thorben who raised his eyebrows questioningly. They were out of time, they had to act, but the soldiers had their guns up already. Luke hesitated. He still couldn't sense anything and his mind was running triple-time, desperately trying to figure out why that could be, what could have happened to Shira - and what he should do now. The mission came foremost – but how could he leave Shira here, not knowing whether she was dead or alive? He had to help Thorben to leave with the shuttle but if...Then, as abruptly as it had disappeared, Luke felt again the sweet flow of the Force filling him. He gasped. "Boss?" Thorben hissed.

Only not quite. His sensations were patchy, like there were spots blind to the Force – or like was he himself losing grip! The _entire left side _of the base was a dead zone as far as his Force senses could tell –

But his sense of hearing disagreed, because from that direction came a whisper-faint sound – the unnerving noise of marching – no, _running_ plastoid-clad feet. Stormtroopers! Luke whipped around, his glance meeting Thorben's and realized he heard the same thing. Luke's lightsaber was out and alive in a fraction of a second, certainly much quicker than it took two deck guards to pull their triggers. The shots ricocheted back at the guards, forcing them to fall back under their own fire, and Thorben had his weapon up and shot the officer down with a stun bolt before he'd even managed to draw.

As one they raced for the shuttle, surprised shouts breaking out across the hangar and bolts nipping their heels before they were halfway. Luke's lightsaber flashed back and forth as he parried while they run, covering them both – then between one step and the next it was _gone _again, the Force was simply _gone_!

And at the same moment the stormtroopers materialized – not only from one of the hangar entrances but from the _Lambda_! Within seconds some ten soldiers were between them and the shuttle, taking up firing positions on and behind the landing ramp. Thorben cursed under his breath but started to pick them off without even breaking pace, reminding Luke exactly why he was five-time champion of the Alliance's semi-annual handgun tournament.

Only this time, it wouldn't be enough. There were too many in their way and while parrying best he could with his lightsaber, Luke didn't have the Force to back him up. His left hand went to his bag, whipping out a short-range anti-personnel frag grenade. In one smooth move he unsecured it, and hurled it at the soldiers.

He had the next ready in two seconds, but it wasn't necessary. Even a small frag grenade was more than enough to turn the lowered boarding ramp into a disaster zone. The surviving stormtroopers pulled momentarily back. And inexplicably, the Force was flowing again.

Luke set his foot on the ramp and froze, suddenly sensing the touch of an ice-cold, menacing mind – just meters in front of him. His danger sense screamed full alarm. Without a second of thought he pulled his arm back and threw the second grenade – right into the shuttle.

"Are you mad!" Thorben's scream broke through to his focused mind like glass shattering. "Shira might be in there and…"

Luke shook his head. "It's not her. It's…" He _knew_ that…

…he had hit…

Luke gave a muffled scream at the sense of pain flooding against him and blazed into the ship. Shira sprawled on the deck, red hair floating around her into an expanding red pool, her face and torso a bloodied mess. For a moment Luke's eyes were nailed to the ragged stump of her arm, ripped off by the explosion…

"_No!"_ Luke barely heard his own scream as he fell to his knees beside her, his lightsaber clattering unheeded to the floor, shutting itself down. He could still sense her life-presence in the Force, but it was fading.

Thorben dropped at his side, cursing, his hand reaching for her pulse.

Blasterbolts started to pour in through the hatch and both men jolted, getting to their feet. Luke spun around and sent a Force push to the control panel that closed the ramp. The mission exploded back into his mind; they _had_ to get the shuttle going and get to the base, otherwise Alph and Shira would have died in vain…

"Get her into the life support unit!" he ordered. "I'll get us out!"

Too much of a soldier to question, Thorben was already up and powering on the emergency medical module, assembling the equipment necessary to even move Shira. With a last, agonized glance at his girlfriend, Luke sprinted to the cockpit.

.

A Lambda-class shuttle was designed to be flown by two pilots, but could in emergencies be handled by one. The problem would be the gunning. Already, the ship was shaking under heavy fire of hand weapons, storm troopers were hurrying around right under the ship and he could see others carrying missile launchers arriving – he had to take them out if they wanted to leave at all – and in orbit there would be an alerted capital ship waiting for them.

Luke's hands flew over the controls, and he heard the reassuring hum as the ship started to power up. Without breaking his work, he let his mind reach out, summoned the Force, and one of the portable missile launchers smashed against the hangar wall as its crew fell stunned. Immediately he sent another blow, knocking down the stormtroopers around the ship. The Force was flowing now, pulsing and surging through him, like it had never been gone – he had no time but to trust it.

Guns. _Guns..?_ Luke pictured the blaster cannon of the shuttle in his head, pictured its targeting device, took a grip of the controls with the Force, took aim – and fired! The laser bolts flashed through the hangar, not very precise, but then there were so many stormtroopers precision didn't much matter.

Luke blinked, staring in disbelief at the smoking proof of his success. So he _could_ use the Force to fire while piloting! He had wondered about that many times. Exhausting, but possible. The shuttle glided up on its repulsors and Luke turned the yoke, despite the urgency of the situation amazed at the maneuverability of the ship. In spite of her size she pirouetted like a ballet dancer, neatly balancing in air – this was what the Empire paid for, all right! Then he punched the thrusters and the shuttle darted off.

It was an open-roof hangar – nice and primitive on this remote outpost - and they were out before Luke had even time to blink. The engines roared as they shot through the atmosphere and Luke hurried to set the controls on autopilot, figuring he had roughly two minutes before they'd be facing the frigate.

Thorben was just adjusting Shira into the life support module. "How's she doing?" Luke enquired, automatically adjusting the bandage on the amputated arm. The stump poked out in mocking familiarity, reminding him of his own loss only months ago – but this was _Shira_. And Thorben's frown didn't give him much hope.

"Bad." Thorben shook his head. "I don't know, Luke, I really don't know. She's lost an arm and a leg, not to speak of all those other wounds – two of them in the stomach – already that could be enough to kill her – and I have no idea of all the internal stuff. This module is automated – roughly equivalent to a 21-B unit, I think, but I don't know if that's enough. I'm sorry."

Luke reached out a hand touching Shira's temple, almost all he could touch – she was so engulfed in tubes, pumps, and scanner attachments. He took a deep breath, let the Force fill him. He exhaled slowly and directed it with all power he could muster into the woman before him, feeling the sense of her flicker weakly in the Force.

"Do that again!" Thorben stood, eyes fixed on the scanner. "It gave that thing a huge boost. Can you direct power to her, somehow?"

"I think," Luke muttered, sweat breaking on his forehead from the effort. "But I don't know for how long. Can you take over flying? We have to get the navicomputer to plot our course. And call me when we run into that Lancer. I think we'll have to be two to get past it. I'll see if I can give Shira strength to hang on a bit longer."

"Aye, Commander." Thorben hurried off to the cockpit. Luke reached down deep into the Force, fervently trying to silence the screaming fear that it just wouldn't be enough.

.

He was far down in the trance when Thorben's shouts finally reached him again: "Commander! _Commander! Luke!"_

With a gasp, Luke pulled back to reality, recognizing the familiar shiver of a ship under hard laser fire. "Coming!"

He glanced at the scanner – only to see Shira's vitals reading dropping dangerously as a result of his withdrawal from her in the Force. Luke's throat constricted painfully – but if he stayed, Shira's life would be forfeit anyway. He forced himself to turn his back on her and raced to the cockpit.

Thorben moved to the co-pilot's station in order to give Luke the pilot's seat, a few dangerous seconds all the more risky as the Lancer-class frigate that was bombarding them was rapidly increasing in size by the second.

"Dammit," Luke breathed. "How did we get so close? The shields of this box won't be able to take much more."

"Sorry, sir," Thorben muttered, "but I had to shout at you for several minutes before you heard me. I tried to get round it but the captain of that ship is a sneaky fox. So far he's managed to outmaneuver all my best tricks."

"All right," Luke murmured in concentration. "Let's see how well he handles the really bad ones then." He took the ship into a loop, as sharp as the shuttle could handle, and dove back towards the planet.

"Luke!" Thorben barked in alarm. "We've got TIEs outbound from the station after us. With that course you'll be taking us straight towards them!"

"True. But we'll shake that frigate. It can go only 20 megalight, we have more than double speed, 50 megs. Just a minute and we'll…"

"But the TIEs can go double _our_ speed," Torben pointed out, "and they're accelerating now. In a few moments…"He silenced as Luke straightened up the course again, forcing the clumsy shuttle to run parallel with the moon and leaving the frigate and TIEs in respective forks of a Y-angle. The TIE's wouldn't stay there for long, however.

"They'll be in firing range, yeah. So you'd better hurry to the aft cannon!" Luke snapped, a bit more curtly that he'd wished. Thorben really didn't deserve any rebuke.

"Can you manage here, alone?"

"Yeah, I got it. But strap yourself in. It's gonna get bumpy." Luke threw a glance at the screen. "Hurry!"

Thorben was off like a flash and Luke gritted his teeth. He wasn't really worried about their chances of getting away – the reason they'd waited for exactly this Lambda-class shuttle was that it belonged to a Lancer-class frigate – much easier to outrun than a Star Destroyer, and therefore escapable even for a something as slow as the shuttle. What worried him was that every second he was away from Shira, the risk of losing her increased. He turned off shields, concentrating full power on speed, following the pursuers on the screen and counting the seconds for the navicomputer to get ready. Right now they were out of firing range of both the frigate and the fighters, and if he could hold the right angle on their escape he might keep it that way a few moments extra – every second counted –

Then the shriek of their own cannon sounded. He spared an instant to check the sensor readout. The TIEs were in range. But maybe, just maybe Thorben would be able to keep them at bay a little longer – just a little longer...Two of their pursuers disappeared on the screen and Luke was reminded again that his comrade was a master shot – and not just with handheld blasters. "Nice going, Hanc."

"Thanks. What says the navicomputer? When are we ready to jump?"

"In a sec." Luke followed the numbers scrolling on the screen. "Are you strapped in? Five, four, three, two…"

He broke off as his danger sense went wild, slamming on the shields again. A hit shook the ship and the entire shuttle went dark, almost stopping in space. For a second Luke feared he'd been too slow and that they'd been damaged, then the lights came back on and the ship continued, a tad slower than before because part of the power now went to the shields, but still going at least.

"Luke!" Thorben's voice came over the comm. "That hit? Are we…"

Glancing to the navicomputer Luke realized to his relief that it hadn't taken damage either. "Two, one," he shouted, "jump!" He punched the hyperdrive yoke and the winking stars transformed into lines of light.

"Wow," Thorben exclaimed after a few seconds. "When you said bad tricks, I didn't know you meant they'd be _that _bad."

"Actually, I think I said, '_really _bad tricks.'" Luke wiped sweat from his forehead. "Hanc, can you get here now, and get us home? I have to…" He stumbled to his feet and hurried back to the emergency medical module.

.

He had no idea of how long he'd been lost in the healing trance when a rhythmical tapping slowly entered his consciousness. For a while he thought it was his heartbeat - or Shira's, he couldn't tell the difference in this state – then he realized it was too slow and coming in doubles. It didn't come from his chest either but his shoulder. He opened his eyes with an effort.

"You need something to eat, Commander," Thorben told him, holding out a handful of rationbars and a steaming cup. "If you drop, Shira's not going to have a chance either."

Luke had of course been drawing on the Force all along, and wouldn't need food or drink for days, but Thorben didn't know that. Nonetheless, Luke accepted the supplies gratefully. "Thanks Hanc."

"You're welcome," Thorben muttered, turning to study Shira's life readings.

"Tell me if they dive," Luke told him, mouth full of ration bar. He was well aware that he only had minutes, seconds perhaps. The caf tasted divine.

"Uh, Luke? I've been making a report," Thorben admitted, "Figured I have to anyway so I might as well do it now. But I don't think it looks very sensible. I have no idea what actually happened back there."

Luke shook his head. "You know, I don't either. One moment we're home free, next minute hell breaks loose. I lost contact with the Force – and it happened twice. I can't figure it out." He sighed, glancing at Shira's unconscious form. "Not that I've been able to think about it either. And we lost Alph."

Thorben nodded, grimly. "Rogue Five isn't a good number. First Dix a few months ago, now Alph."

"Hey," Luke muttered. "I flew Five when I shot down the Death Star."

Thorben only looked strangely at him.

. . .

Mara was returning from her lunch hour when she recognized Skywalker's golden protocol droid meandering in a sideway passage. She broke her stride, frowning. Something about the droid seemed so uncharacteristically lost. The unit turned, focusing its sensors on her. "Oh! Miss Mara! Maybe _you_ could help me, please?"

There was a new note to that sissy voice – urgency. Despite an initial compulsion to get away as quickly as possible, Mara couldn't make herself just turn her back on it. "What is it?" she asked reluctantly.

"It's Artoo Detoo," the golden droid whimpered. "He's been gone now for two days and he's left no message or other indication where he could have gone. I'm worried! It's not _like _him!"

Mara rolled her eyes. Wonderful! A _worried_ protocol droid… She had a pretty good idea why the astromech droid had disappeared, of course. Brie must have left it deactivated somewhere – which was alarmingly thoughtless, it would make Skywalker start wondering when he returned…

"Look, I have a job to do," she grumbled. "I can't ramble around the ship searching for runaway droids. Where have you been looking for it?"

Only, Brie had claimed that Skywalker wouldn't return… Mara felt a cold chill down her spine.

Which meant that she wouldn't have bothered to cover her tracks…

.

They found Artoo the next day in the garbage section, submitted to obliteration. A sad mess of burned circuits, scratched and beaten metal and three blaster holes shot through the sturdy body, Mara didn't need to check in order to know the astromech had been memory-wiped to its primary operations. The only functions left were blinks and a single, broken beep, repeated to insanity, as the droid rocked back and forth on his socket - like a human deprived of his wits.

T.B.C.


	22. Chapter 22

Sorry to have you on the edge of your seats because if Artoo - but as you'll find out, he has a very important role to play still. Hang on! And **thank you **for the feedback! I'm overwhelmed - and encouraged!

And as always - my eternal thanks goes to **_frodogenic_** for her help and support!

_**Please note: **When writing this story, I leaned heavily on the Wookipedia information concerning Alliance High Command but since it was far from adequate, I had to make up the rest. It turns out that my inventions are partly in conflict with _new_ additions on the Wook – but at least I tried my best._

**

* * *

**

**Quagmire - Chapter 22**

**Aftershocks**

Luke sat in the medbay; swollen, redrimmed eyes glued on Shira's unconscious form drifting like a wrecked ship behind the thick transparisteel of the bacta tanc. He had spent the last several hours here, still clad in the Imperial maintenance coveralls, waiting in mute agony for Too-onebee's verdict.

The loss of limbs was obvious of course; Shira's left arm had been ripped off at the elbow, her left leg at the thigh and her right foot was injured beyond repair, as was most of the calf. The internal injuries were no less severe. Unless Luke had gone into a trance, projecting all his healing powers on Shira in concert with the shuttle's advanced life-support system, they'd have lost her many times over on their journey back to the base. Thorben had told him the life support had reported collapse nine times before they reached _Home One_, but every time the decline curve had stopped miraculously and started rising again. This was no miracle to Luke, who'd spent every inch of his ability to accomplish this and who was weary beyond exhaustion. Still, he refused to leave the medbay. The question wasn't whether Shira would have a few implants and scars, but whether she would come back to herself at all. For all the medical technology in the galaxy, one thing still remained the crucial point; whether the living being had the fight in it to prevail over the injury it had suffered.

Luke knew that Shira had more guts than most, but would that be enough? And even if she survived, even if the med droids could cobble her together physically, would she ever come back to herself, ever become that dazzling, self-assured woman that he'd been pulled in to love as much as any one setting his eyes on her?

And it was his fault – _his_. He had no idea how it had happened, though he'd run the scenario on his head a thousand times by now; he only knew that the responsibility was his and no one else's. _He_ had thrown that detonator, _he_ had trusted his Force sense when it had warned of an enemy ahead, _he_ had lost contact with that same Force sense so completely only seconds later - and _he_ had chosen to launch anyway, when he should have known that Shira in all likelihood was straight ahead of him. Thorben, who had no Force powers whatsoever, had tried to warn him. But Luke had ignored the warnings, choosing to trust the fraction of a second's impression...

"Luke."

A gentle voice broke into his spinning, agonizing mind and made him start. Leia's soft hand reached out to touch his shoulder and Luke turned his head.

His eyes, rimmed with red, surrounded by sagging bags that threw shadows over his worn-out face, met hers and his heart cried out for her. _"Leia!"_

The next moment he was in her arms, clutching her strong, slender spine as he pressed his head against the padded chest of her jacket, desperate, hot tears surging up from his depths. Still sitting on the chair he clung onto her like a desperate animal to a deeply rooted tree in the storm, and she stroked his hair, whispering soothing words that meant nothing except acceptance of his pain and need.

After long minutes, Luke loosened his grip, struggling to gain his self-composure. "Sorry, I…"

"Don't," Leia murmured softly, her hand taking his, the other one still in his hair, gently fondling it. "I'm sorry too, Luke. So sorry."

Luke glanced back at the form in the dimly lit tank, looming just behind them. "Yes. Thanks."

Leia reached out for another chair, pulling it to her and sitting down without letting go of his hand. "What happened?"

"I don't know, Leia," he whispeerd. "I have no idea."

She gazed into his pained face, weary beyond words, and would have given anything to just be able to say, 'It will be okay.' Anything.

But it wasn't going to be okay. Shira certainly wasn't, and not anything else either it seemed. The ship was boiling with strange rumours. Exactly what they were saying and how they had come up with it, and even who _they _was, Leia had no idea.

Luke was shaking his head, slowly, helplessly, like had he forgotten how to stop. "It was a nightmare, Leia," he mumbled. "Suddenly, just like that, Force was gone, it just disappeared. And then it was back and warned me – and I threw it, that grenade, and this happened." He glanced towards the bacta tanc. "I don't know how I got it that wrong? It must have been me somehow, I…" He swallowed hard, desperate in his self-accusation. "I don't think I can be a Jedi, Leia. You see how this went. I should never have dared to try…"

"Stop that, Luke!" Leia interrupted him. "Stop that! Don't accuse yourself when you don't even know what happened. You tried your best. You've never done any less!"

He looked at her, his self-reproach so tangible it ripped her heart. "But it wasn't enough."

Leia swallowed hard. "Sometimes it isn't. That happens to us all. And when stakes are high, the loss is higher as well. I _know_. I live with it every single day. Every _moment_."

She didn't say the word _Alderaan_, but Luke blinked, breaking her gaze. His own failure was too heavy on his mind for the truth to be of any help. "I still don't know how to be a Jedi, Leia."

"If you don't, Luke, then who does? You're the last torch-bearer. Don't drop it now."

He closed his eyes at that, even this truth too piercing and heavy a burden to carry right now. Still, he nodded, knew, accepted his load. Leia watched him, heart bleeding, wishing she could carry part of it for him.

"You should get some sleep now, Luke," she whispered. "This doesn't help Shira, and you'll have to give an official report soon."

"I can make the report from here…"

"No, you can't. You need to get some rest first. Please, Luke."

He gave her a bleak smile. "You could order me to bed, Leia."

She returned the smile warmly. "I prefer to ask nicely." When he still didn't move to get up she added. "First time, at least."

Luke gave the bacta tank a final glance. "All right. But promise you'll wake me up if she gets worse."

"Luke!"

"All right, Leia," He leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, then left the medbay.

Leia followed him until the door closed after him with a hiss. He was all but stumbling.

. . .

Luke felt like he'd just slept for five minutes when the frenzy buzzing of his doorcom rustled him from his sleep. In fact he'd been sleeping for nine hours, but disperced over the past days it still didn't count for much.

"Ok, I'm coming, I'm coming," he growled, getting to his feet and fumbling for something to pull on. Then he sensed who was outside and just opened the door.

Han Solo charged in but stopped and took in Luke, clad only in briefs. He sized him down and up, stopping on still-heavy eyelids and puffed face. "Stang, you look terrible!"

"Thanks," Luke muttered. "That's how I feel too. What news?"

"You're still the latest," Han informed him and sat down on the chair, crossing his feet and bouncing them onto the table in a posture that clearly was intented to look much more relaxed than his sense in the Force declared him to be. Luke hurried to shift some datapad and flimsi so no piles would be knocked down by Han's boots.

Han followed Luke's moves as he walked back to the bed, sinking down on it with a moan, flexing tense, aching muscles. "What the hell happened, kid?"

Luke sighed, wearily. "I don't know, Han, I just don't know. The one moment the Force told me absolutely that there was an enemy before me, the next, it was gone and it was Shira who was blown to pieces."

"Gone?" Han looked suspicious. "What do you mean, gone?"

"I mean the Force was gone. I couldn't feel a thing. I can't describe it, it was like suddenly becoming blind I guess…"

"I knew it!" Han brought his fist down on the table with a loud thud. "I _knew_ there was some big 'but' with this Force thing! It couldn't work!"

Luke shook his head. "Han, it has worked all the time since…"

"But suddenly it just stopped, right? There we go! I told you from the start…" Han stopped himself, seeing Luke's jaw setting into its most stubborn angle, disappointment evident.

"Ok, kid. Sorry. Didn't mean to say _I told you so._ But you have to admit that…"

"I admit that I practically killed Shira," Luke interrupted between gritted teeth. "So obviously I misunderstood what the Force told me. I know I suddenly lost contact with it – and I have no idea why." He shook his head, discouraged. "But I must assume the fault was mine, nonetheless."

"Naah, kid. Hey…" Han fidgeted, not knowing what to say. He could tell that Luke was as determined as ever to keep his faith in that hookey stuff and right now wasn't quite the moment to bring him down. Just the contrary, actually. The kid had accidentally shot down his own girlfriend, for stars' sake, and might on top of that even be blamed for it; he needed all the encouragement he could get. Still, it would've been much easier to comfort him if he'd admit he was wrong believing in that hocus pocus. Shavit, sometimes – too often –Luke was as stubborn as Leia! If Han hadn't know better he would've sworn they were related.

He began to say something but was interrupted by the buzz of Luke's comlink. "Commander Skywalker? Alliance High Command wants to speak with you in Ready Room 27 in half an hour," a nasal Mon Calamari voice announced.

"I'll be there, Officer Thaneespi." Luke told her. He glanced at Solo. "I'd better get ready. I'll catch you later, Han."

Han swallowed a lump. He suddenly had a very bad feeling about this. "Yeah. See you later, Luke."

. . .

He had thought the nightmare would end when they reached _Home One._ He'd been wrong.

An hour later, Luke found himself facing a deeply serious High Command, all people and faces he'd known through four years of war and hardships, now closed-off and distant. There was Mon Mothma, solemn and elevated as always; General Riekaan, his trust-infusingface in troubled wrinkles; Madine with hardened lines around his taut mouth and restlessly tapping his fingers on the table; Ackbar, bulbous eyes wobbling tensly; Ral'Rai Muvunc fingering his lekku; Airen Cracken, seagreen stare narrowed to a slit; Menja Palvoja, her Quarren face unreadable; and Vektor Gelsk and Janek Takapaju sporting expressions one hair shy of open antagonism. And there was Leia, his Leia, face pale and jaws set.

Luke braced himself and waited.

"Commander Skywalker," Mon Mothma began, her well-modulated, civilized voice smothering all feelings and thoughts that might go on behind that composed face. "As you probably are aware, you are summoned here to give us a report of your mission. You made a report upon arrival, but since there are… issues, we would like you to recapitulate the events."

Luke nodded. "You want me to begin from the start or from the moment things started to go bad?"

"Please begin from the start, Commander."

A bit surprised, Luke did as requested. Failed operations did not normally merit the undivided attention of the entire High Command council. He couldn't quite understand the bad feeling he had about all this, nor the appearent apprehension of the people around him. The loss of half the crew of the mission was an immense failure and tragedy, but not as much to the Alliance as to Luke personally. He'd been around long enough to know from hard-won experience that missions _did_ go wrong in war. Some failed completely, some partly, and the loss of half of the personnel was sadly not unusual – a fact that several of the persons present had pointed out to Luke on earlier occasions when he'd been anguished and self-tormenting after not bringing all his men home. They were at war, and war was dirty business. As much as Luke feared he might have failed, he couldn't actually see _how_ he had done it this time, at least not to an extent that needed handling on this high a level. And technically, this mission hadn't even failed – they _had_ accomplished their objective, to steal the shuttle.

When he had finished, Mon Mothma nodded. "Thank you, Commander. I understand that your story matches the report you've given earlier. General Cracken?" She glanced at the Supreme Intelligence Commander.

Airen Cracken cleared his throat. "It corresponds impeccably. It also equates to the report given by Captain Hanc Thorben as far as those events they were both present on."

Luke couldn't deny that a certain relief welled up in him. If he was under charge somehow, it was good he at least had a coherent story to give. For a moment he had feared that his wrecked nerves might have been playing him a trick by leaving something vital out or by being straight-out misleading.

Cracken continued, "We have a few questions, Commander, as some things still remain a bit unclear. I, for example, am still confused about why you threw the hand grenade into the shuttle, well knowing that Commander Brie had been alone on the ship only ten minutes earlier?"

Luke closed his eyes a few seconds. That was exactly what he'd been asking himself ever since; asking over and over again. And he had no better answer to High Command than what he was telling himself. "A lot can happen in ten minutes, General, we all know it. At the moment I threw the grenade, I didn't sense Commander Brie, only an unknown hostile mind. I was absolutely convinced that there was an enemy just inside the ship. And I was sure that if I didn't take this enemy out, Captain Thorben and I would be in imminent danger, probably dead."

Cracken nodded but Janek Gelsk of Starfighter Command broke in. "You say 'an enemy'… You called it a 'hostile mind' earlier?"

"I see it as the same thing, sir. At least in this case."

Madine spoke up. "You say you were aboslutely sure there was an enemy 'at the moment you threw the grenade'. Are you still claming yourself to be sure?"

Luke shook his head. "No, sir. I know now that there was none but Shira, uh, Commander Brie on the ship."

"And she wasn't a 'hostile mind'?" Gelsk riposted.

"Of course not!" Luke exclaimed, shocked. Yet, at that very moment, he felt a cold hand squeeze his heart. _Something…_

"So the Force you trusted, turned out to be leading you astray?" Gelsk wondered, exchanging glances with Takapaju and Madine. The first nodded, the latter frowed, tapping his fingers in vexation on the table.

"It could seem so…" Luke admitted, trying hard to pinpoint where the Admiral was heading with his questions.

"Could seem so?" Gelsk's brow creased. "You're not sure?"

Luke swallowed hard. "I'm still convinced there must be a good explanation."

Several of the present mumbled in surprise, and Luke noted that Leia was pressing her lips tight together. Gelsk leaned forward, studying Luke intently. "Commander Skywalker. You trust this… Force thing. Don't you?"

"I do."

"So much that you set your reason aside when you believe the Force commands you to?"

Luke frowned. "Yes. No. The Force doesn't 'command' me, Admiral Gelsk. But it tells me things. It has done so through four years, and until now it has never been wrong."

"Never?"

"Not once, Admiral. First time I trusted it was when it told me when to fire at the Death Star, and since then, I've done my best to learn to follow the fine hints it gives."

Gelsk made a dismissive gesture. "Please. We _do_ know of the Death Star. You've had your moment, but that was four years ago, one has to move on…"

Luke glared but Riekaan broke in, voice alleviating. "I take it that some of the hints the Force gives, are rather subtle?"

"They can be. Very subtle, actually."

Takapaju spoke for the first time. "But the presentiment that made you throw the grenade, wasn't subtle, was it?"

"No, sir. It was quite clear." Luke lifted his chin a fraction, defiance worming into his mind now.

"Would you still follow the lead of the Force, no matter what?" Gelsk demanded.

Was that was this was about? Was the High Command doubting the Force? Did they want Luke to dismiss it, abandon this way, obliging him to follow plain reason instead? For a moment Luke wavered. That could seem reasonable enough, the recent events into consideration. Yet…

The Force was the path that had been laid for Luke. His destiny. He'd accepted it and taken it upon him to learn and develop his abilities. He could no more leave that path than he could have followed Vader that day at Bespin.

"I would, sir," he maintained. "I understand that it can sound questionable in the light of what's happened. However, as I said earlier, I'm sure there is an explanation to all this, we only need to find it.

Takapaku and Gelsk murmured. People shifted in their chairs. Mothma lowered her head, gaze fixing on the polished steel table. Ackbar leaned in. "You told us, Commander, that the Force 'went out' somehow, that you felt it like you lost the connection. Could you explain more about this? "

Always subconsciously trusting towards the Mon Calamari Admiral, Luke did his best to answer the question. "It's a bit hard to explain. I've never experienced it before, nor have I heard about anything like it. It was a bit like… like all lights had gone out. Except that it was only my Force sense that went out, not any of my other senses."

"And you are absolutely sure that the connection was back again in the moment you launched the grenade. That you threw it on an impulse by the Force?"

That was, in fact, was Luke had been desperately asking himself, wondering again and again if he hadn't been mistaken at this very point. But there was no escape. "I am, Admiral. The Force had been back only a fraction of a second and I didn't have time to extend my sense on anything else but the sensation was very clear: there was an enemy and if I didn't take her out I would die."

"Her?" Gelsk's voice cut through at a high pitch.

"Sir?"

"You said 'her'?"

Luke faltered. "Sir, I… I know now that it was Commander Brie I fired on. It's not… easy to find appropriate words when talking about this." _What am I doing?_

Gelsk's eyes narrowed. "Is it true that you had a quarrel with Commander Brie the evening before you went onto the mission?"

Luke stood a second speechless.. "No. That's not true. I... Where do you have that from?" he finally managed.

The Admiral sidestepped the question completely. "But you were in a relationship?

"We… Yes. We've been for two weeks."

"I see. So the first romance was beginning to falter, reality closing in already…?"

"Admiral, I don't think this is appropriate. We don't discuss personal isses here." Mon Mothma broke in.

"No Chief Mothma, I understand that." Gelsk replied. "But may I point out to you that Commander Skywalker has actually _made_ this a personal issue. By constantly drawing upon this 'Force', a personal ability that he claims to have and that no one can charge him for, he has put himself supposedly above others and made his motives unquestionable… How can we trust him, unless he at least in all other ways is untarnished? And the past days, even before this 'accident,' there have been rumours…"

A shocked Luke couldn't keep his mouth shut. "What rumours?"

Gelsk glanced at him without a hint of empathy. "People in whom Commander Brie has confided have told their version of your relationship. And those versions are not as rosy as the lustrous facade would indicate…"

"What? Wait! What are you insinuating?" Luke had a feeling that the very floor he was standing on was falling apart under him.

Gelsk's voice was almost insulting "I'm not insinuating anything yet, Commander Skywalker. We are still investigating here."

A sudden beep from a comlink interrupted him. Mon Mothma checked the message on her datapad, then spoke up, voice tart and glancing shaply at Gelsk though she directed her words to Luke. "I think we'd better stop for now. Please remember, Commander, we are not suggesting anything at the moment. We are grateful for your cooperation and we will continue this investigation. We will contact you again shortly." She looked straight at Luke, face softening into a kind, if still reseved smile. "You look like you still need some rest. Please, take my advice and get some."

For a moment Luke stared straight into her steady, blue gaze, his mind a wild blur. Then he gathered himself. "Thank you, Chief Mothma. Sirs, Ma'am, Princess Leia." He saluted and left, forcing himself to walk straight and calm out of the room.

Mothma turned to Admiral Gelsk. "That was uncalled for, Admiral. And I advise you to use a respectful tone in the future. We are investigating what happened in a tragic accident, not accusing Commander Skywalker of anything." She looked at the others. "We will continue here in three hours."

.

When Leia, pale and haggard, left the ready room, Han was waiting for her in the room nextby. He tugged her arm impateintly. "What's the matter? What's happening? Is the kid in trouble again?"

Leia nodded wearily."Yes, Han. He is in trouble again."

. . .

Luke staggered out of the ready room and took the turbo lift a floor down to the Mess, then had to stop and lean against a bulkhead . His mind was swirling at full speed, but unable to make any sense he could use. Mothma was right, he needed more rest. And some food. Pulling himself together with great effort he re-started towards the Mess.

Someone was closing up from behind, and Luke realized it was Han. The Corellian's alarm practically screamed out from his Force aura. "Hey kid…"

"How much did you hear?" Luke muttered without turning.

"Nothing. Uh well, Leia told me some of it, but I didn't stop long to listen…" Han admitted, coming up and around to face him. "Look kid, it's not that I distrust you or anything, but maybe you should try to watch your mouth a bit here. If you keep insisting that it was the Force that told you to throw that thing when you did…"

"Then what?"

"Well," Han weaved. "Then they'll believe you're whacko or something…"

Luke glared angrily at him. "Thanks a lot, Han!"

Han extended his arms. "Hey, I'm not the one making that up. I'm just sharing a useful perspective here."

Luke looked aside, gritting his teeth. "And what do _you_ believe, Han?"

The Corellian shrugged lightly. "Kid, I _know_ you're whacko, knew it from day one. That's one of the main reasons I like you, actually. Maybe 'cause it makes us such great partners."

Not able to resist Han's ever goodhearted sympathy, Luke had to smile. "Yeah, right. Two nutcases…"

Han grinned. "No, I meant one nutcase and one genius, but… " he grew serious again. "Hey, Luke. Always remember to trust your gut feeling. Your own. No matter how whacko you might look. After all, if you don't trust yourself then what have you got? That's what I say anyway." He broke off as they entered the Mess…

…and several men blocked up their way.

No one said anything. They just stood there, blocking the passage, all staring at Luke. Han tensed and he gave his friend a quick glance, unsure what to make of the situation.

Luke lifted his chin and gave Han a little push at the elbow, ushering him aside but Solo only took a few steps, then stopped, glancing in anticipation from one to another.

Luke spoke up, his voice measured. "Whatever you guys have to say, can we get said so I can go eat?"

The party, mostly techs or supply staff judging from their fatigues, exchanged nervous looks and long seconds ticked by before any one willed himself up to speek. Finally a mechanic starting to go bald opened his mouth.

"We've been talking, Skywalker. Talking a lot. None of us is happy to see you here after what you did. So we think you should find another place to eat."

A murmur started and rose, people starting up from their seats and to see what was happening, most of them looking at loss.

Han opened his mouth to launch out, then remembered his responsibility towards Leia. She was in High Command – obliged to remain neutral – and he was her...well, he was hers at any rate. What was he supposed to do in this situation? He hesitated and peeked back at Luke who stood quietly, eyes intent on the speaker.

Excited further by the charged atmosphere the mech spoke again, this time not hiding his contempt. "You're not welcome here. We don't like people who throw grenades at their girlfriends. So why don't you bugger off."

Luke tensed. "Is that what this is about? You think I threw that grenade at Shira on purpose?"

"Well, didn't you? Didn't you know she was inside the shuttle?" the man challenged and Luke's protest froze on his lips. Before he could find a retort, another man continued. "You and she had a fight the other night, didn't you? We know 'cos she told some of her friends. She was worried. Wasn't sure she wanted to be with you anymore after the way you treated her."

"Shira was a great girl," a third growled. "She deserved better than some whacko Jedi using his ugly tricks against her."

Luke straightened, shaken to his core, but forcing himself to push those feeling away to be dealt with later. "When I flung that grenade I was sure there was an enemy on the shuttle. I didn't know Shira was in the fire zone. And yes, it was the Force that told me to throw it. But I've got no idea what fight you're talking about. Shira and I were doing fine. And when she comes back to herself she'll tell you all the same thing."

"Oh yeah? And if you were doing so fine, why do you think she was so worried she had to talk to several people about it?" the balding man quipped.

A cold lump weighted in Luke's belly but he willed his voice to stay calm. "Well, she sure didn't speak to me about it and since we didn't fight, you must excuse me for not listening to loose rumors."

"This isn't a _rumor, _Skywalker, this is what she said to people I know, and it was _bad_," the balding man insisted, but another man muttered, "C'mon Milo, we're not sure that's exactly what happened."

Luke gazed at them, hard. "Last time I checked we had the same enemy; the Empire, and that should be our enemy still. If we can agree on that, I think you should step aside and let me get something to eat."

Several, if not most of the men seemed to falter, a few of them starting to step back, but the man they'd called Milo was only enraged further by Luke's words.

"Sounds like you don't count cheating on your girl as a problem," he snorted. "But I'm here to tell you, it is to the rest of us. And some even say you used that Force of yours to push her around."

"What?" Luke's composure finally cracked at the accusations put to words. He stared at Milo, unwilling to believe his ears. "That's too far out! Shira can't have..." _Couldn't have_…

"That's what she told some friends anyway," Milo insisted, eyes blazing. "And she had marks on her wrists too. What went wrong, Skywalker? Had your fun and got tired of her, moved on to the next already? We'll see how much faithfulness you'll be showing her when she walks out of the medbay as cyborg – loverboy!"

Desperation, pain and doubt finally boiled over inside Luke at those last words. Without another thought he took a step forward and swung his fist towards Milo. The tech dropped like a mynoch.

Han didn't waist another second but threw himself at Luke, partly to hold him, partly to get in between him and the others. "Easy, buddy!"

A few others also stepped out, apparently in the same business, glancing nervously about but most bystanders backed away. Two of them helped Milo to his feet. The tech was furious. "Did you see that?" he shouted, pointing at Luke. "No one decks Milo Fourstar that fast! He musta used the Force. He's a sorcerer! How can we trust a man like that? He might even be in league with Vader!"

"Hey!" Han shouted angrily. "Wait a minute!"

There was a motion in the crowd and Mess Chief Golly appeared, deep furrows on his forehead. "I'm sorry, Skywalker, but I think you'd better leave. I'm sorry this happened."

"Yeah," Luke murmured. "So am I." He turned to leave but when Han started to follow he shook his head. "No, Han. Thanks. I think you'd better stay clear of me."

"Hey!" Han started again but Luke put a hand on his arm. "Talk to Leia first. I'll be in my cabin."

He turned and walked away, and Han was left to stare at the door where he'd disappeared, oblivious to the murmurs and questions.

T.B.C.


	23. Chapter 23

Once again I must express my deepfelt gratitude for all the encouraging reviews you readers send me! You give me the energy and inspiration to write on!

And again - the same deepfelt thanks to _frodogenic_ - half of the credit for this story definitely goes to her!

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**Quagmire – Chapter 23**

**The Verdict**

Mon Mothma folded her hands and scanned the gathering in the conference room. All nine members of High Council glanced back, expressions severe.

"So," she began. "You were all present three hours ago when Commander Skywalker gave his report. You have also read Captain Thorben's dispatch as well as Chief of Staff Takapaju's account of the rumors that have been circling around the ship recently. What we still lack is Commander Brie's recollection of the events, but it's obvious that we'll have to wait for them for some time still." She paused rhetorically. "Opinions, anyone? Questions?"

Leia held up her hand. "If I may, Chief Mothma. Janek's account was not made available to us in document form. I would appreciate if we could hear it again."

Takapaju cleared his throat. "Certainly, Princess. I have a print here. Would you like a copy of it?"

Leia nodded. "Yes please, afterwards I would."

The CoS leaned forward. "There has been comment about Skywalker's changed mood ever since Bespin. Where he would previously have been described as open and sociable, people now notice him to be more distant and insular. He used to be extremely well-liked, but shipwide opinion on him has become more ambivalent as a result of these changes. Many have started to have doubts about whether there are some truths in the Imperial propaganda about the Jedi."

Leia had to bite her lip not to make a rash comment. Getting agitated wouldn't help Luke and she herself was here as a member of the Alliance High Council, not as his personal friend. She had to stay objective.

Ackbar held up a hand. "Forgive me, Chief Takapaju, but I'm not sure how any of this is relevant. People change in time, but is that really our concern here?"

Takapaju straightened in his chair. "Your point is clear, Admiral, but consider mine. Skywalker has changed, everybody agrees on that – and now he's charged with accusations of unstable behaviour. I _do_ think it is a relevant fact."

"Last time I looked no one was charged of anything," Rieekan pointed out, voice mild. "And if someone was, this would not be the forum for debating the question. This is an executive body, not a court martial."

"So far in the Alliance history there has been extremely little need of court martials," Mothma observed. "I would be sorry if that would be the case now."

"Especially _now_, when we need to stand together more than ever," Madine rumbled.

The assembled glanced at each other for a while, then Takapaju cleared his throat again. "Do you want me to continue?"

"Please do," Mothma replied levelly.

"As I said, there have been many rumours about Commander Skywalker's behaviour of late, some of them dealing his personal life, or perhaps more appropriately the lack of it. When he and Commander Brie started a semi-official relationship about three weeks ago, it seemed something of a shipwide event."

"Poor chap," Cracken commented, drawing several chuckles despite the atmosphere.

Takapaju continued a bit louder, "Apparently, just after the launch of Operation _Sheep Skin,_ different rumours started to circulate. And after the knowledge of the events has spread, several of Commander Brie's friends have turned to Staff Unit with their concerns, which is what brought this entire subject to my attention. There are a number of different claims but these are the main ones: that Commander Skywalker's been much more volatile of temper in private than anyone would have been inclined to believe. 'Testy' and 'irascible' are some of the words that have been used. Others have used phrases like 'too eager to prove himself' and 'possessed with the idea of becoming a Jedi.' Several have claimed that Commander Brie had voiced to them her worries about the sustained pressure he's been under, and expressed doubts whether he was in a condition to lead the mission. She also told a few people that Skywalker has been talking in his sleep about Lord Vader, apparently having long conversations with him. Finally, it seems that Skywalker and Brie had a fight the evening before they left on the mission. According to Ensign Malina Parr, who claims to be Brie's closest confidant, Commander Brie had asked Skywalker about his relationship with Technician Second Class Mara Jade and he allegedly Force-hauled her up the wall and pinned her arms before 'coming back to himself' as Parr expressed it. "

Leia shook her head, incredulous and enraged by the accusations but doing her best to remain objective. "All of that is second, perhaps third-hand information and all of it sounds very implausible. There is no argument that Commander Skywalker has been under considerable pressure, but there's nothing new about that and he's been very capable of handling it this far. For my part, I find these accusations _very_ hard believe – they doesn't fit even marginally with Commander Skywalker as I know him. They don't even sound like Commander Brie, for that matter. She's a lady of action. Their relationship notwithstanding, if she had any concern about Luke's leadership she would have consulted a superior officer." She looked around. "I would frankly be disappointed in this body if it put any faith in such flimsy gossip."

"And what are these rumors about Commander Skywalker and Technician Jade?" Ral'Rai Muvunc wondered. "Is there any truth about that?"

"Whether there is or isn't makes no difference," Leia retorted. "It's Commander Skywalker's alleged aggression and instability that's the issue, not Commander Brie's possible jealousy."

"What concerns me," Madine boomed, "is how the word about what happened on that mission has been able to spread _at all._ Last I checked, after-action reports on classified missions were confidential."

For the first time, Takapaju seemed a bit embarrassed. "They are, General. But I have a new aide who's a close friend of Commander Brie and I fear she might have slipped…"

There was a murmur of disapproval and Mon Mothma noted something on her datapad. "Perhaps we need that court martial after all, Madam President," Madine growled and sank back into his chair, scratching his hair irritably.

Leia spoke up again. "I still fail to see how we can blame Commander Skywalker for what happened on Thenax V. As he himself has pointed out, he had no reason _not _to believe what the Force told him, even if we present don't understand the nature of that communication. The Force has served him unfailingly for years and has helped him to overcome several situations against odds other people would have thought impossible. It is not surprising that he should give the Force the benefit of the doubt." She straightened. "And we have to say the same thing about the Commander. He has served the Alliance unwaveringly for four years. If we can't give _him_ the benefit of the doubt…!"

Gelsk shook his head. "I don't agree, Princess. Not anymore. I admit I have myself been blinded by Commander Skywalker's success and therefore am to blaim for closing my eyes to the problem. But if he trusts some strange occult power more than plain reason or the person standing next to him…That's a demeanour that can not be accepted in military."

Leia laughed at him. "Gelsk, the Jedi were the backbone of the Old Republic, immediately appointed to generals at the outbreak of the Clone Wars. Twenty years ago no one with their wits intact would have even thought of questioning their position and reliability."

"Then perhaps it is thought-provoking that the Jedi didn't survive – and neither did the Republic," Gelsk pointed out. "Besides, Princess, these are not the Clone Wars. Our soliders are independently thinking, highly-qualified and well-trained individuals, not clones."

"Clones _were _independently thinking, highly-qualified and _extremely_ well trained individuals," Cracken retorted levelly. "I've seen clones fight, Admiral – and I tell you, if the Imperial Army corps were still clone-only we'd be in much more severe problems than we are now!"

"Pardon, me gentlebeings," Menja Palvoja broke in, "but as interesting as that thought is, it's off-topic. The question should be whether we actually can consider Commader Skywalker a Jedi or not?"

Leia straightened in her chair. "The discussion this far taken into consideration, I would insist that before we consider that question we should answer another one first. Do we in the Rebel Alliance trust the Jedi – or do we not? Do we accept that there is such a thing as the Force that guides them, guides us all, perhaps? Because if we don't, then General Palvoja's question is meaningless."

Takapaju and Gelsk started to protest but most others murmured their agreement. It was Mon Mothma who surprised Leia by shaking her head. "No, Leia. This is not, and should not be a question about whether we can trust the Jedi or not." She straightened in her seat, raising her voice ever so little. "Sad are the times we live in, but they would be sadder indeed if Palpatine's propaganda had penetrated so deep even to the hearts of us who have shouldered the responsibility to try to see clearly. This is the Alliance to restore the Republic, and I must underline that under my leadership there shall be no doubt that the position of the Jedi is equally as valued and trusted as is was in the days of the Republic."

Gelsk and Takapaju jolted in their seats, but most others nodded their consent. Several smiled. Mon met Leia's gaze, expression severe but grieved. "When I started in the Senate thirty three years ago, your father took the trouble to present me to many Jedi. I have a very clear memory of those encounters and my experiences. The Jedi were unselfish servants of the Old Republic, untiring in their efforts to do their duty and humble about their extraordinary abilities. They were, as you said, the backbone of the Old Republic, and the day they fell was the same day the Empire was announced. We all know what followed."

Silence followed her words and many present looked down at their hands. Leia did so too, ashamed that she had for a moment doubted Mon, and realizing this was exactly what it shouldn't come to: distrust and accusations. Takapaju seemed to have a hard time finding a place to look; Gelsk wasn't quite convinced yet, brow furrowing in obvious frustration.

Mon continued, thoughtfully, "What you're right about, Leia, is that we are dealing with something greater than it may appear. While we present still trust the Jedi" – she gave Gelsk a stern glance – "we do not speak for everybody in the Alliance. And we have to face that while young Luke Skywalker boosted hopes and morale when he came here four years ago and blew the Death Star to atoms, things have changed. What people express in corridors and behind doors isn't the same anymore. Luke himself has changed his behaviour greatly and lately he hasn't made many claims to be the Jedi he once openly tried to become. This Council has no right to interfere with Luke's personal decisions, but we can acknowledge that his recent behaviour only encourages his detractors."

"What has puzzled me for a long time now," Riekaan broke in, "is why young Skywalker has changed so much lately. I will never forget how young and eager he was when he first came here. Just the way he looked at you could inspire you to do anything."

"He still inspires his squadron," Gelsk admitted reluctantly. "They'd follow him through a black hole if he asked them." He rolled his eyes. "Or perhaps it's Rogue Squadron that's simply too stubborn to give anything up, including a swaying leader."

"Skywalker lost his hand after Hoth," Airen Cracken reminded. "I've gotten the impression he's quieted after that. Perhaps it's not a bad thing but on the contrary, a sign of maturity. A realization that trees don't grow to heaven."

"Or perhaps he's recognized he doesn't truly have the abilities."

Everybody turned their head towards Mon Mothma who had uttered this last suggestion. Leia couldn't believe her ears. "You don't believe that, do you?"

Mon shook her head. "No. I don't – at present. But it is most certainly a belief – or fear, if you want – that many people around us are asking themselves."

"When did it become like this?" Leia moaned. "When did Luke get such a burden to carry, so many hopes to live up to?"

"When he blew up the Death Star – and when we gave him the honor for it," Mothma reflected.

"He didn't ask for any of that!" Leia protested, anger in her voice.

"No," Mon countered. "But it happened, and now we must deal with the situation as it exists. Commander Skywalker and his Force-sensitivity, for better or worse, have become a rallying point and a beacon for the entire Alliance. Does Skywalker have the abilities we've believed he has? Have these abilities been intact all this time, or have they suddenly diminished? And can we correctly call him a Jedi?"

Leia straightened. "As you are all aware, I know Commander Skywalker very well. I can confirm that he beyond doubt possesses these abilities. He can levitate things, he senses things before they happen, he can draw upon the Force to do things others can't... And his abilities have in no way diminished of late. If anything, they have increased and he has learned to control them." She paused, then felt forced to add. "But at no point have I heard him _claim_ himself to be a Jedi."

"Do you know why?" Riekaan inquired, earnestly puzzled.

"No," Leia admitted. "I think I've been assuming that he doesn't feel ready, doesn't want to call himself what no one can prove him to be anyway. That it's a kind of humbleness as well as insecurity. That would be Luke as I know him. But I don't _know_ this… And I haven't asked him about it..."

She remembered his desperation the day before in the medcenter and suddenly realized how she'd failed him. Why, why, _why _hadn't she asked him, at _any_ point? All these months when she'd seen him, mood dark and introverted, why had she only had eyes for her own pain, her own loss? And now that Han was back, she had let his jealousy and their own relationship set the schedule for her conversations with Luke. How she regretted it now!

Gelsk made an impatient gesture. "We're still only guessing here! All right, let us take Princess Leia's word that Skywalker has Jedi abilities, but why did they fail him so completely on this mission? Do we have a theory of that?"

Everybody looked at each other but no one spoke.

"Well, I do," Gelsk continued. "And it has to do with those 'cut outs' that Skywalker himself reported. We all know that people under hard stress can get blank-outs, and we have several indications that the Commander has been under great pressure lately. Isn't it pretty near at hand to suppose that the reason why he lost contact with the Force was simply mental pressure?"

Ral'Ray Muvunc pursed his mouth. "That would fit with his changed personality as well as with the rumors Commander Brie seems to have let out."

"There was also an incident, taking place only hours ago, after Skywalker left this very room," Takapaju pointed out. He quickly referred what had happened in the Mess.

"He actually clocked him one?" Ackbar's eyes wobbled on their stalks. "Luke _Skywalker_?"

"See?" Gelsk insisted. "The man clearly isn't at balance."

"He lost a comrade on his mission, he hasn't slept for days and his girlfriend is in pieces in the medbay," Cracken reminded dryly. "Now tell me again _why_ he isn't at balance."

"If it was me," Madine added, "I'd punch him too. Anybody would." He glanced at Gelsk. "Anybody with a _working _cerebrum, that is."

Leia cleared her throat. "Pardon me, but has no one considered it could be the other way round?"

Mothma frowned. "What do you mean, Princess?"

"We've gone to great lengths to figure out whether Luke's 'unstable', as you put it, or the Force simply has failed. But what if none of that is the case? Shouldn't we consider that possibility too? What if the Force told Commander Skywalker the truth?"

Everybody looked at each other, bewildered at first, then gingerly nodding. Cracken dared to make the next step. "If that were the case, we have to conclude that the threat came from Commander Brie, since she was alone in shuttle by that time."

"It still wouldn't explain why he lost contact with the Force several times," Gelsk retorted, visibly bothered.

"True," Leia returned, "but it would explain why it told him to attack."

Mothma nodded. "We should consider all possibilities. But why would Commander Brie be a threat?"

"Perhaps she wasn't a threat – but Commander Skywalker just sensed her as such, still agitated by the stormtroopers that had come out from the shuttle only moments before?" Menja Palvoja suggested.

Cracken glanced to the notes on his datapad. "Commander Skywalker specifically stated that he sensed a hostile mind on the ship in the moment he threw the grenade."

There was a long silence before finally Ackbar uttered the unspeakable. "Espionage."

"That's ridiculous," Gelsk snorted. "She's been in the Rebellion for three years. Her record is impeccable."

"Not anymore, if she's indeed been spreading those rumours," Leia countered. "That's a remarkable indication of bad judgment. And why has she been talking about Luke with so _many_? Surely she must have known rumours like that would undermine trust in one of the Alliance's central figures? Even on a strictly personal level I find it… disloyal. Besides, Commander Brie was at no loss for influential friends if she was worried; why not take it to the Command? I know for example that you, Admiral, are a loyal and admiring friend of hers." She nodded at Gelsk who flushed and lost his composure for a moment.

Takapaju was still kicking. "That's preposterous! What Skywalker's the spy? Shouldn't we consider that possibility as well?"

"Of course," Leia offered. "Let's summarize the possibilities. One: Commander Brie is a spy. Two: the spy is Commader Skywalker. Three: Commmander Skywalker is mentally unstable. Four: The Force is a delusion. Any other options?"

Ral'Ray Muvunc spoke up. "What about those dreams Skywalker presumably has had about Darth Vader? Could there be any truth in that? How does the Force work? Is there any risk that Skywalker could be under influence from another, hostile mind and therefore not in command of all of his actions?"

Leia paled. She hadn't considered that at all.

There was a long silence, finally broken by Ackbar. "We know that Darth Vader was the one who cut off Commander Skywalker's hand. If he's having nightmares about the man, he's in good company. However, the sad truth is that we have no way knowing any of this, do we?"

Cracken shook his head. "No, we're fumbling in darkness here." He frowned, considering. "When Commander Brie wakes up we might get a bit wiser, but that might take days. Weeks perhaps."

"My last report from the medbay estimated three or four days," Mothma announced, checking her datapad.

"That's not so bad," Riekaan remarked, cautiously optimistic.

"Still, with the rumors onboard and the escalation we saw already two hours ago, I'm afraid we can't wait," Mon went on "We have to take some action. Either we back up Commander Skywalker or we place him off duty until we have a clarification of the situation."

Cracken cleared his throat. "Under normal circumstances I'd support Princess Leia's suggestion and give Commander Skywalker the benefit of the doubt. At present, however, I believe it is important that we are as thorough as ever possible. I fear that any sign of favoritism might weaken the Commander's position further."

Leia felt something churn her stomach. "On the other hand, if we don't support him we'll look like we support those who believe he might have thrown that grenade on purpose," she pointed out.

"I will not accept an "either-you're-with-me-or-you're-against-me" argumentation. If we do, we're as black and white as the Empire we're fighting. We have to do what we consider right, not try to second guess how others may interpret it." Mothma settled.

"I must admit that those rumours concern me," Madine grumbled. "They concern me a lot. Because they tell me there is some ill will going on here in our Alliance, and I say we need to find the source and wipe it out in its root."

"They concern us all, General," Mothma remarked mildly. "How would you suggest dealing with them?"

"If I may." Cracken cleared his throat again. "I believe that if we let this process drag out we might be able to find out more, for example who has been spreading those rumours. There may be a third party at work besides Commander Brie. If someone is trying to blackenSkywalker we might drag him or her out of the bush by playing to their hands and pulling time out. On the other hand, if what has happened truly is because Commander Skywalker has been under too much pressure, well, then he would be likely to make another mistake if we continue that pressure." He shrugged. "It might not be the most noble of methods, but at short term it's the most likely to give results."

A brooding silence followed his words as everybody considered these possibilities.

Eventually, Mon Mothma spoke. "We have to make a decision. Ladies, gentlemen. Your votes please."

. . .

Luke hadn't bothered to turn on the full lights in the briefing room where he'd been ordered to wait for the verdict. When Leia came in he stood up out of old habit when a superior entered, then hesitated, not sure whether she was here as a member of High Command – or simply as a friend.

Leia shook her head, gesturing him to sit down again, but her face was uneasy and troubled. She sat down on the chair before him, folding her hands in her lap and took a deep breath. She had no idea of how to soften the blow so she just said it. "High Command believes that it's best that you are taken off duty for a while."

Luke stared at her and she could see his shock, the disbelief, the pain. As her words sank in, his expression both hardened and calmed as he slowly accepted the situation. Finally he looked up. "What does that mean?"

Leia forced herself to stay calm even if she couldn't keep aversion quite from her voice. "It means that you're stripped of duties and merits while we investigate the case. You can still move here as you like, save that you will cease to have access to certain restricted areas of course. And you can't leave. But it's only for a period. Until we can get a picture of what has happened…" She broke off.

His shoulders slumped at that, at the full understanding of the mistrust he was shown, but he gritted his teeth, not giving up yet. He looked sharply at Leia and she tensed against the accusation she knew would come, the demand that she should take sides in this, that she'd show whether she truly was his friend of not. She lifted her chin, unable to neither reproach him his anger nor let down her duty.

But to her surprise, Luke's expression softened to compassion and he closed his eyes. When he opened them again she could see love and rapport fighting for space with the misery.

"Oh, Leia," he mumbled, reaching out to take her hands. "How did it come to this? I have no idea. I know so many situations where I could doubt or criticize more or less every step of my way… but in this…? I honestly don't know how I could have done anything differently. And now I'm pulling you down too. You have to stand firm. Don't think for a second I can't see that."

Leia's throat constricted. She squeezed his hand, marvelling again at Luke's incredible ability to love and forgive – and to see clearly.

None of all those things unsaid stood between them anymore. Luke breathed a deep sigh at that wonderful surge of her unwavering loyality and support that flooded freely at his expression of understanding; the unexplainable fellowship and solidarity he'd always shared with Leia, so much deeper in insight and awareness than he'd ever shared with anyone else…

No doubts. No fears. Not anymore. Not when it truly counted.

"I'd love to help you Luke, but…" Leia's voice faltered.

"I know."

He didn't need to explain but did anyway. It gave his mind something to work with. "Shira is liked by everybody. I shot her down, more than that; I injured her severly and unavoidably - and nobody understands why. If you don't believe in the Force, it looks like I handled the mission irresponsibly, or even worse... And I have no proof or explanation to offer for my actions. If you supported me as things are right now, it would get feelings boiling even more and split the Alliance severly. And if there's something we can't afford now, that's that."

"You're part of the we, Luke." She couldn't help herself, she knew this, felt it so deeply.

"I know." He smiled sadly. "And if I don't sit back and accept what High Command decides, it'll be bad for the Alliance too, so I'll wait until I get another chance. And I'll do that alone. Without you. And without Han."

Leia blushed. "Our relationship isn't official, Luke, we…"

"That doesn't make it less real - or known. Your job is to support the decision of High Council, and Han's job is to support you." He held her gaze firmly. Standing here before her, sensing her worry, compassion and deepfelt care it appeared so easy see what how they should act. He knew the hard part would be tomorrow – and the day after tomorrow and after – when she wasn't standing here close to him anymore, where she would carry out her obligation and would be forced to turn her back to him. Would he be able to remember then how devastated she was now?

"There's something odd going on here, Luke," Leia murmured, "and we have to find out what it is. I know it isn't you, but…"

"Others don't," he said simply.

Leia shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. She wiped them away angrily. There wasn't anything to say, so she snatched him up in a fierce hug. He hugged her back, and they stood together for a long time.

This was so right, Luke reflected in awe; Leia this close, this open; the love between them, the care; so much more heartfelt and deep than ever any feeling between him and Shira, despite his resolve to open up. Again he wondered, without the trace of an answer, about how strange and complicated things could be. All his doubts and fears…

I am your father…

He took a deep breath. "There's more to it than this, Leia. There's something else I haven't told you, but probably should have a long time ago."

Leia felt a cold shiver down her spine. "Is it about this?"

He shook his head, "No, something else."

"Are you sure this is the right moment to tell me? Is it important? Something fatal to the Alliance?"

"No. I guess not. But it's something discrediting me. Something about my father…"

Leia hesitated. "Is it something you have told Shira?"

"No. I've told no one."

"Is it something that you've done?"

"No, but –"

"Something you've caused?"

"Not that either, but I –"

"Then don't tell me. Not now." She shook her head firmly. "Whatever it is about your father, it's something you can't do anything about. It can wait."

Luke nodded grimly. Without even knowing the state of play, Leia was speaking the truth. Luke couldn't do anything about his heritage.

Besides, he'd gotten pretty good at ignoring the subject by now.

. . .

Han stared at his girlfriend as if she'd turned into a two-headed Hutt. "Are you saying you don't trust Luke? After everything we've been through together?" He stormed down the short viewport wall of Leia's cabin and then back again, powerless.

Leia shook her head, regretful but determined. "That's not what I'm saying. Of course I trust Luke!"

"But you turned your back to him!" Han yelled. "Now, your worshipness, you can call me a lot of things – but I ain't turning my back to a friend – and particularly not to the kid! He needs us! Look, he might try to look like he doesn't, going Jedi and all – but he does!"

"I don't like this either, Han," Leia snapped. "But something odd is going on here. We know it, and Luke knows it. And there might be someone around who shouldn't know that we know. If I support him openly…"

"Wait a minute. Are you saying Command wants to use the kid as bait?"

Leia nodded. "That's the vernacular for it, yes."

Han stared at her for long moments, then turned to the viewport to look out at ship surrounding them; the undisturbed air of the majestetically floating cruisers and battleships contrasted by the buzzing activity of snub fighters and shuttles. Too quiet for him. Leia sighed wearily. "You don't approve."

Han didn't turn around. "No" he said in a low voice. "I don't. Luke was already under a lot of pressure for reasons he hasn't told me about. Looks like he hasn't told you about it either."

Leia bit her lip. "No, he hasn't."

Han nodded. "There. See? We can't let him down."

It sounded so simple when he said it. She knew it was anything but, and she still found herself agreeing completely. She sat down on the bunk. "You're right. Of course you're right. But what should we do?"

"We'll figure something out," Han told her, spirits rising again. "We'll…" His com sounded. "Oh, kriff!" He grabbed it impatiently and barked, "Not now! I'll call you back!" Then he realized it might be Madine and hurried to add, "Uh, who is it?"

A distinctly irritated roar on the other end left no doubt who it was. Leia hid a smile.

"Look, that can wait," Han growled. "You know Goldenrod – he's always in a fuss over something – what?" He fell silent, listening with a darkening scowl to Chewie's yaps and growls, and Leia turned to watch him.

Finally Han switched the com off. "Artoo is in Recycling. They got him slated for spare parts."

"What!"

"According to Threepio, Artoo went missing two days ago. Yesterday, Goldenrod ran into Jade and asked her for help. They found him earlier today in the garbage department, scheduled to be obliterated. Looks like he's been memory-wiped and shot to hell into the bargain. Jade got him out of there and tried to find us, but because of all this mess with the kid no one has been where they usually are. So she left him and Threepio outside the Falcon to wait for us. But when no one showed up, the Professor blew a chip and started to look for us. Meanwhile the cleaning guys removed Artoo and sent him to Recycling."

Leia stared at him, stunned. "Now tell me something isn't going on here!"

Han gave her a grim look. "I won't. And it's all directed against the kid."

Leia swallowed. "And Artoo… oh no! Luke will take this hard!"

"He will." Han sighed. "If I understand it right, Threepeo tried to argue first with the cleaners to let Shorty go, then with the techs in Recycling but when he had no success he went back to the Falcon. Fortunately, Chewie had arrived by then."

A small laugh escaped Leia despite the seriousness of the situation. "Fortunately. Chewie has a bit more… impact."

"Figures." Han still didn't smile. "I'll go and have a look at the damage. Will you tell Luke?"

"I… wait, Han. I think we should let Intel look at Artoo before we do anything else. This can't be a coincidence. You have to call Chewie and tell him not to touch anything."

Han sighed again, grabbing his com. "All right, I'll call 'em. But if you ask me, those techs have probably been there already." He glanced at her somberly. "And someone still has to tell Luke."

Leia closed her eyes, wishing she could shut the world out as easily. "I know."

T.B.C.


	24. Chapter 24

**Quagmire – Chapter 24**

**Pariah**

It took over one week for Shira Brie to regain consciousness. By that time, Leia had been run ragged by her own helplessness. She wasn't the only one. High Command was increasingly worried about the buzzing rumours that stirred minds, fed mistrust, and ultimately jeopardized morale. Of course, the voices hostile to Luke were the loudest. HC's decision put him on ice had been widely interpreted as proof that he was guilty, and now it was practically impossible to take the decision back without having another leg to stand on. They needed information – and they needed it fast. Alliance Command had known for some time already that the Empire was building a new space station, on the same unthinkable scale as the Death Star. According to the latest Intel reports, the station was not yet operational – but it was going to be inspected in three weeks. By the Emperor – in person. Palpatine barely ever ventured from the impregnable stronghold of Coruscant. They had to use this opportunity to strike – it might be years before another arrived, if it ever did. The Alliance had to stand united and - as Mon had pointed out to Leia and Ackbar in private - the symbolic value of having the Jedi on their side couldn't be underestimated.

When Mon Mothma received word that Commander Brie was conscious again at last, she therefore wasted no time but pushed the Chief Medic to permit a short interview of the patient. Only one visitor was allowed and the task fell on General Madine. Gelsk, who as Chief of Starfighter Command was Luke and Shira's closest superior, had voluntarily stepped aside the day after their last meeting, admitting to Mothma a personal involvement with Brie. Apparently he had been smitten with her for a long time, had even been courting her about a year ago, though unsuccessfully. This was not really news to anybody, but it was a profound relief that Gelsk had been the one to bring it up. A split Alliance was bad enough without throwing a split Council into the melee. To observe and record the interview, Mon Mothma appointed Admiral Ackbar and Leia.

As they entered the medbay, Leia's heart kicked into third gear. Ackbar noticed her unease and patted a long-fingered hand on her shoulder. "Are you well, Princess?"

"To be honest, I'm not sure I should be here," Leia admitted. "In many ways I'm as liable to let personal involvement interfere with my judgment as Admiral Gelsk."

"Which is why we will be watching from the observation room," Ackbar reminded her gently. "The transparisteel will be set to one-way. Commander Brie won't even know we are there."

Not very likely, Leia mused to herself. Shira was no rookie – unless she was in a very bad condition, she'd been around the block enough times to know the interview would be observed and probably recorded too. They arrived in the observation room and Leia straightened as she saw the red-haired woman in the hospital bed on the opposite side of the wall. No matter how strongly she had always disliked Shira Brie, she couldn't suppress a burst of empathy. Two viciously red, fresh scars ran from the other woman's left chin and down her neck, and she still had several diodes attached to her chest. Apart from that there was no visible indication that she'd been a hair's breadth from death just days ago, but everybody knew that her left arm was now a prosthetic as was her left leg from the thigh down. Most of the internal organs on the left hand side of her body had been replaced as well, having either collapsed or been too injured to ever function fully again. Synthflesh, artificial sinews, and silicon-base muscles kept it all in place. Leia had read the medical report; how the rest of the ship knew these things, she could only conjecture.

Madine entered the room and Leia hurried to start the holo recorder, focusing on her task. "Commander Brie," he greeted. "I'm glad to see you looking so well!"

Shira offered a pale smile. "Thank you General. And thank you for taking time to visit me."

"I'm afraid it's not a pleasure visit, Commander," Madine told her, to the point as always. "We do urgently need your co-operation in determining what, exactly, happened on Aderon Station."

"Oh." Shira lifted her hand to rub her temple, her expression blurring for a moment.

"Do you suffer amnesia?" the general asked, suddenly worried.

"Not at all," Brie assured him, letting out a little laugh. "I'm confident that I remember everything that happened, at least until…" her voice trembled a little... "until the explosion. It's just that I find it all very painful." Behind the wall, Leia felt a small chill run down her back.

"I regret very much having to ask you to dwell on those experiences, Commander," Madine insisted gravely, "but this is urgent. We know that you split with Lieutenant Alph Garret and met with a local technician before entering the shuttle. Could you tell us what happened from there?"

Shira hadn't but opened her mouth when the door to the observation room wooshed up and Luke came bursting into the room. Leia pivoted, then remembered she was holocording and half-turned back to get the holocam back in angle. "Luke! What-"

Luke's cheeks were flushed – he had obviously been running – and he hardly glanced at Leia. "I sensed… She's awake! She's…" Seeing Shira in the adjacent room his expression flooded to one of intense joy and relief. "I was meditating, and when I came back I could sense her!"

He rushed for the door, his focus solely on Shira. Ackbar stepped in, trying in vain to get between Luke and the door. "Commander! Now isn't a good moment to…" But Luke had already pressed the door release.

At the sight of him, Shira sat up straight in her bed, Madine forgotten. "Luke!"

"Shira! How are you?" Luke seemed so happy to see her that he was close to crying. He started towards her, hands outstretched, almost trembling. Madine looked for a second like he wanted to intervene, then held back, glancing an unspoken question at the wall Leia and Ackbar remained behind.

Shira let out a short, sharp laugh. "Apart from being blown up and transformed to a cyborg, you mean? Oh, I'm doing swell, never better! You really got in a good shot there, didn't you?"

Luke froze, paling. "'Got in?' What do you mean?"

"How about you tell me?" Shira hissed. "Tell the general too, while you're at it! You damn well tried to kill me!" All composure and civility was gone from her face. Left was only sheer, barefaced hatred. Leia gasped at the intensity of it.

"I..." Luke's words failed him completely for several seconds before he could force out, "Why? Why would I have done that, Shira?"

"How would I know what's going on in that warped mind of yours? Did I ever get a place there between all your self-doubts and ambitions, all your Jedi-obsessed dreams?" She paused, as if a thought were dawning. "I got too close, didn't I, Luke? You didn't want anyone to see you – who you really are?"

"No." Luke shook his head. "No, it was the other way round. I wanted to get closer, don't you remember?" Ackbar glanced sharply at Leia, but she didn't pay attention. Her eyes were fixed on Luke, who continued. "Look, I don't know what you're talking about but if you're angry with me I…." He broke off, hands running, then falling again in a helpless gesture. "Of course you are. Look Shira, I'm sorry! Stars, I'm so sorry... I didn't think you were in the shuttle anymore. I thought something had happened to you –"

"And you made sure it happened too! You made me a freak! Just look at me – a deformed – monstrosity!" She flailed her new prostethic hand in accusation. The hand was smooth and neat with its new, flawless synthflesh, quite in contrast to her face, now completely distorted by anger and hatred.

Luke shook his head, "You're not a monster." His voice tendered. "Not to me – and not to anyone! Everybody on this ship has been following your recovery, Shira! Everybody is happy you survived! Look, I know it's hard for you to accept what has happened, but you will in time, I know you will. Meanwhile, you're free to be as mad at me as you want –"

"I hate you!" She threw the words into his face and Luke faltered. He looked aside, already backing away.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come. Not yet." He looked at Madine, then towards the window shielding Leia and Ackbar, as if for help.

Madine who had followed the whole exchange intently but in silence, put his hand on Shira's shoulder. "Commander Brie. I know you're upset and anyone can see why, but please understand one thing. It was Commander Skywalker who kept you alive on the trip back. Without him and his knowledge of the Force you would never have made it."

Perhaps it wasn't the best thing to say in a moment like this. Leia wasn't sure she'd have taken it well either, had she been in Brie's shoes, but the intensity of Shira's next words took her aback anyway. "That's a fracking lie. That son of a Sith tried to kill me!"

Luke stood as if hit by the lightening, all color drained from his face, speechless. Madine spoke up, "Why would you think that, Commander? You and Commander Skywalker –"

Shira threw her head back and laughed – a mad, wild laughter that cut through the spine of the listeners, her eyes wild, a strange glow lit in them. "Because he tried it once already. But that time he got cold feet and called it off. And I, stupid, thought he didn't mean it, that he was tired, upset. So I forgave him – and went with him on that mission!"

"Shira," Luke whispered. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't you remember what happened the night before the mission? Oh no, how silly I am! Of course you've been trying to forget it all, to wash your lily-white hands free of you own dirt. But you know what I did? I showed the marks to Malina and Stacey and told them what you did. They know!"

"What are you talking about?" Luke repeated, shaking his head. "What marks – " He suddenly broke off, eyes widening in shock.

Shira turned to glower at the stunned Madine. "You think he's so reliable, so perfect, practically a saint. You all think that! But he's not! He's dangerous! Possessed by his Force and his need to prove himself. He's not a Jedi. If anything he's in league with Vader, I tell you. He's been talking to him in his sleep! I know! I've heard him!"

The general found his voice. It actually trembled a little. "Commander Brie. Please! Calm down!"

Luke broke in, composure regained at last, his voice low and hoarse but durasteel hard. "You're lying, Shira. You're straight-out lying! Why? Why are you doing this? Tell me!" He stepped towards her, gripping the metallic foot of the bed so hard his knuckles whitened as he bored his eyes into Shira's. She stared back, furiously, and for a moment their gazes locked in a merciless battle of wills. Then Shira flinched violently away, her features contorting. Luke stared an instant longer before he jolted back with a yelp, letting go of the bed and staggering several steps.

Shira screamed now, shrilling like a madwoman. "Get out of my mind, you maniac! Let me go! Let me go!"

"Commander Brie," Madine tried in alarm. "Commander, no one's hurting you…"

Behind the wall, Ackbar spun towards Leia again. "What the Force is happening? Should we intervene…?"

Shira was still screaming but Luke was reeling back, all strength seemingly gone. He tumbled against the wall, and back into the observation room. Leia was by him in two steps. "What's happening?"

"I…" Luke's hand went to his head. "I recognized…" He broke off, then, without finishing the sentence, he turned and left, leaving Leia thrown and stunned, as much by what she had just witnessed as by the immense, horrified shock she'd seen mirrored in his face.

.

"Well," Ackbar breathed out when they were safely away from the medbay, situation at least scantily back under control by the intervention of several nurses and medics and a door closing behind them all to protect from prying ears. "That certainly provides some food for thought. I think I've never seen a human so agitated."

"Not outside a war zone, anyway," Madine muttered. "And I don't know about you, but I didn't quite get the point of Commander Brie's accusations. Did she accuse Commander Skywalker of trying to kill her or of trying to mutilate her?"

"Both, I think," Leia reckoned. "But I admit I lost track myself. It's good we got it all recorded." But inwardly she quivered, wondering if it really was. Luke, what did you do there?

"What happened in there?" Ackbar, wondered, voicing her own question. "Why did Commander Brie start screaming like that? She was completely out of herself – did you see her face?"

"She certainly was." Madine shook his head. "But I think Skywalker was as bad off in the end – he practically tumbled out – I have no idea what happened."

"'Get out of my mind' she screamed," Ackbar recalled. "What could she have meant? Could he have used the Force?"

Madine's head snapped up. "Some kind of mind trick…?"

Leia swallowed hard. "I'm pretty sure he used the Force to read her mind, not to trick it. At least it sounded that way; he asked her why she was claiming… what she claimed. "

Ackbar thought about it, then nodded gravely. "That sounds possible. Whatever this is, it isn't pretty. And Commander Brie's accusations are grave indeed. To me, however, the worst thing at the moment is that I can't see how we come past this point. Even though we never had time to ask her about it, I think we can now safely assume that it must have been Commander Brie who spread those rumours about Skywalker. And it looks like we're facing the situation we feared the most: two parties, claiming exactly the opposite and maybe both even believing themselves right. How can we know who speaks the truth?"

"We let it drag on," Madine replied, voice grim. "Sooner or later one of them will make a mistake. Suits our needs at the moment like hell, of course." He paused. "If Skywalker is as unstable as Brie's suggesting, he won't be holding together for long. But I still say Brie has the weaker case. Commander Skywalker has been a rock to the Alliance for four years. I've been going through the reports these past days, and the facts just don't back up anything she's said about him. He's without question one of our most reliable pilots and special agents and has been to this date."

"Yet he might have entered her mind without permission just moments ago," Leia felt forced to point out.

Madine shrugged. "If my girlfriend accused me of trying to kill her I might jump the gun too, just to figure out why."

"A Jedi shouldn't act rashly," Ackbar remarked, voice quiet.

"True. But is he a Jedi?" Madine shrugged again. "And even if he is – isn't a Jedi still human?"

Leia didn't speak, her thoughts too contradictory at the moment. The only thing she was grateful for right now was that she wasn't Commander in Chief. She took a deep breath. "We'd better report to Mon."

. . .

Luke lay in his bunk listening to the familar hum of the hyperdrive, to the pulsating Force drone of the living beings on the ship, to the silence due to lack of company in his cabin. He'd laid here so many times the past months and wished he could stay and just bury himself into his bed. He'd thought he had reasons then. If anything, it seemed like the universe had been teaching him one lesson the past years; if you think you're in trouble now, just wait till tomorrow.

How often had he blessed his single cabin? But the past week he'd desperately wanted a comrade to disperse his dark thoughts. After today he'd give anything for someone to help sorting out his desperate questions. He remembered the first years when he'd shared cabin with Wedge, the stories, the laughter, the long talks to late hours… But he had no one now. Not even Artoo… Poor, poor Artoo. Luke closed his eyes in pain.

Even if Wedge hadn't been bunking with Tycho now, he was away to Bothawui with most of the old squadron, and with Deena. And with Leia in High Command and them putting Luke on ice, Han had been forced to do the same. Luke knew it, and understood, which didn't make it one bit easier. He stood alone with all his worries. All the old, known ones - and the new; the catastrophe at Aderon, Shira's accusations, his own actions, the loss of Alph, of Artoo. And now, just to put the icing on the ryshcate, what he had learned in the medbay.

He had gripped Shira's mind with his own - and while her mind had slammed against his own for a moment, shielding forcefully and trying to push him away, it had shattered as quickly, crumbling before he could even think of pulling back – and he had seen… Recognized…

Shira was the cold, vengeful mind he'd sensed so often the past months and last time just when he was throwing the grenade. How could he have missed that? Well-liked, charming Shira – how could that be? All this long time she must have kept him out on purpose, must have been shielding consciously.

But nothing of it made sense. Ever since he had first sensed that mind, Luke had automatically connected it with a threat of some kind, reflexively assuming it was the person behind the arson as well, but this set it all in a completely different persepective. Shira wasn't who he thought - and that shock was paralysing enough – but he could not, would not, think of her as responsible for arson! That had to be someone else!

But what was she then? Nothing he had thought, that was sure - nothing anybody thought! Should Luke go onwards with that information? But what kind of information was that anyway? "Hey, folks! Guess what I found out. Shira's not who we thought!" What more could he really say?

And as things were – would anyone believe him? Force, he could hardly believe it himself!

Or was it Shira who was right? What if Luke really was going crazy, what if his judgement was clouded? He had lost contact with the Force on Aderon, he had failed to spot the connection between Shira and the threat, and today, without a second thought, he had forced himself into her mind - even if he'd stumbled back from the shock almost instantly. Wasn't that evidence enough that he was losing his grip?

Or what if it was the Force that wasn't to be trusted? That was one of the questions he had wrestled with the past months. The Force was a much more unpredictable entity than he'd been thought… the Dark Side whispered to him every day...

What was he to make of it all? What should he do now?

Never in his life had he felt so lonely. He felt like crying.

Tough guys like Jedi didn't cry.

Something burned in the corner of his eye.

But scrawny wimps like Luke Skywalker did.

. . .

Wherever Mara went, it was the same thing: the ship was buzzing.

Some were sympathetic and disbelieving, most were worried, some flat-out malicious. Everybody had an opinion on the apparent Fall of the Hero. Mara wondered if the former farmboy had any idea of just how many people followed his day-to-day life. An outside observer would have thought the entire ship was addicted to some holovid soap opera.

"Perhaps he's not a Jedi," a Mon Calamari supply tech told her Chadra-Fan friend at the lunch table. "Jedi aren't the only ones who use the Force. There are the Sith too…"

The Chadra-Fan squirmed its hairy nose, nodding knowlingly. "I heard about Sith when I was a kid."

"Yeah," a grayhaired human nodded. "I've heard of them too. And there are Mind-witches. And Anzati."

"Oh, I know your stories," a human tech retorted. "You heard all kinds of stuff when you were a kid. You people from Tarina are full of tales."

"They're true!" the gray-haired man protested. "I know a guy who met a mind-witch once. They create illusions and feed on other people's life energies. He lost two in his crew to her, he did!"

"Ah, lay off the Whyren's," the tech dismissed. "I'll give you the Sith though, they're for real. Where there are Jedi there are Sith. Kind of opposing poles."

"So no Jedi, no Sith? Is that what you mean?" the Chadra-Fan wondered.

"All right, I don't know, ok? But it's all strange stuff. Better have nothing to do with it, that's what I say."

"I read a tabloid once that said Palpatine's a Sith," the Mon Cal mumbled thoughtfully. "And I heard the Empire had the whole magazine staff shot the next week –"

"Hey, look over there - isn't that the woman Skywalker was sleeping with while he was with Brie?"

Mara, who was only eyeing her datapad for the sake of appearances, suppressed a snort. Now she had been dragged into this gundark's nest too! Thanks a trillion, Brie!

If she'd been averse to her collegue before, it was nothing to what she felt these days. Brie had failed to get Skywalker captured when she had the chance and had now fallen back on her wonderful plan B; to hound Skywalker to such isolation that he would abandon the Alliance and seek comfort in the arms of the Empire. She'd been sure it would work since Skywalker had supposedly never been truly isolated before, carried as he had been these past years on his popularity and hero's reputation. And who did Miss Marvellous cite as the co-architect of this scintillating strategy? Vader – of all people! Like that caped automated replica of a human would know anything about feelings! Fitting – the two of them made a nicely matched pair of cyborgs now.

Mara snorted in contempt. Their assertion was nothing less than propostrous! Luke Skywalker had been isolated since childhood, locked away on pathetic subsistence farm on a fifth-rate planet, and according to Deena with an uncle and aunt who'd never understood him and with friends who hadn't either. Mara had been on Tatooine and if there was one thing that couldn't survive on the planet it was weaklings. To live on that dustball you just had to shut up, grit your teeth and survive. That was what Skywalker had learned to do – and that was exactly was he was likely to do now. Give him a month and he'd pull some swashbuckling stunt and bounce right back – she was willing to bet the Emperor's nightrobes on it.

Anyway, as things were, Princess Leia had to stay officially neutral, and Mara had no doubt that the only reason her loudmouthed Corellian consort wasn't smashing in the noses of all Skywalker's detractors was that his girlfriend had succeeded in making him shut up, at elast so far. But that would not last – Mara couldn't believe either the Princess or Solo had sold their friend short. They would speak up when the time was right, the Corellian probably first and loudest.

If Deena had been here – a painful jolt shot through her chest at the thought – she would have raised all nine Corellian hells, of course. She wouldn't have yielded before Skywalker's name was cleared, and neither would Antilles, Klivian or Janson. But they were gone and – thanks to her stupidity and the petty malevolence of that cyborg wallowing in drama in the medbay – most likely lost on that mission to Bothawui. Another twist of her gut hurried her on with her thoughts. Lando Calrissian would probably have made a fuss to beat the band himself, but he seemed to have gone on a mission too somewhere. At least she hadn't seen or heard of him since she'd ordered him not to com her anymore. Thank the Force for small favors. The rest of the Rogues had kept an oddly low profile, but at second thought that wasn't surprising. Their beloved commander had blown an equally beloved sister-in-arms to pieces, and with the faithful core of Skywalker supporters gone, those left were at loss. Brie had not been idle in her years in the squadron. Still, Mara had no doubt that the Jedi still had many allies in the Alliance, even if they were biding their time.

She had contacted her Master of course, giving him the latest chain of events and requesting orders on which approach she should take. In her eyes, Brie needed all help she could to make her idiotic plan work, and no matter how repulsive she found the woman and her plan, Mara was prepeared to back her up if her duty required. But her Master had surprised her again and ordered her to retain her low profile. He had instructed her to under no circumstances blemish herself in Skywalker's eyes, repeating his claim that the Jedi would leave the Alliance any day now. Mara had objected, citing that Skywalker was grounded, but the Emperor had been almost dogmatic on the subject: Skywalker would come to Vader and Vader would bring him to the Emperor. If the Jedi tried to escape from the Rebellion, Mara was to assist him in every possible way.

It was a relief, of course, not to have to worry about supporting a plan and a colleague that she found at all levels detestable. Not to mention full of insulting and unprofessional cheap shots at her fellow Hand: it was after reporting to her Master that she had learned that Brie had mixed her into the mess by starting a hoax about her and Skywalker. It had to be Brie – the rumor was simply too propostrous to come from any other source. Just thinking of it made Mara snort; Mr. Earnest himself, cheating on his girlfriend. And some people believed it! How stupid could you be?

To her relief, no one had confronted her with the gossip, a few passing flocks of women had given her ugly looks but that was that. If she hadn't Force-enhanced her hearing on a constant basis, she might have missed it altogether.

Mara kept telling herself that she couldn't have cared less. The incident was drawing lines of opinion strong enough to be mistaken for opposing battle trenches, thus lowering the morale of the Rebels, which was of course always a good thing. And basically, whether Brie's plan succeeded or not wasn't her problem either; Mara's job was to stand ready behind the scenes in case her collegue should fail.

And fail she would. Mara had no doubt whatsoever. Her question was now; what angle should she take in the present to create maximum opportunity in the future? Digging into her lunch, Mara took the time to think the matter through once again. It could have been a brilliant opportunity to comfort Skywalker in his time of agony, thereby getting closer to him, but Brie had effectively complicated that by her gossip. If Mara sought out the Jedi openly it would fuel the rumors...

…but maybe that would be two mynocks with one shot? She'd get in Skywalker's good books but he'd lose credit in others' eyes, hence contributing to Brie's plan indirectly – which, although revolting, was undoubtedly in the line of duty. Maybe it wasn't a bad idea after all? Mara chewed thoughtfully on her flatbread.

Her musings were interrupted when the subject of the week made his appearance, quiet and unassuming as always but nonetheless followed by each and every eye in the room. Skywalker walked straight and seemed oblivious to all the attention he gathered but Mara could sense his tension – and actually not much else. Now who was shielding?

The Jedi got his food and turned towards the room. For a moment Mara hesitated. She would not win him over by supporting him openly. No, she needed to do it discreetly – but not invisibly. Seeking him out in his cabin was probably the best approach – and making sure just one or two persons noticed. That way it would spread shipwide in no time. Consequently, she concentrated on her datapad and food and observed with her peripherals as Skywalker walked past, seating himself back towards her on a deserted table in a corner as if he hadn't seen her. Perhaps he hadn't either. She noted that the mechs sitting at the adjoining table rose and walked out as the Jedi came, leaving him alone in the corner.

She sat for some long minutes more, reminding herself that Skywalker could mind his own business, when she saw Nera Dantels enter the Mess, accompanied by a few other pilots from Dagger Squadron.

Mara saw Dantels get her food, pick up her tray and starting to look for a place to be seated. She froze for a second when she noted the lone form in the corner. Turning to her companions to say something, she then headed resolutely towards the Jedi. The others mumbled between themselves, fiddling with the utensils or napkins on their trays, until a sturdily built man with a ponytail shrugged and followed her. The other two looked at each other, then followed suit.

Mara smiled to her soup.

.

Luke didn't believe his own eyes when Nera Dantels seated herself opposite him, a smile playing on her exotically pretty face. "Hi, Luke."

"Hello, Nera." He moistened his lips. "Long time no talk."

"About time then, don't you think?" Nera countered levelly. "How's the soup today?"

Luke let a thin, pale stream run from his spoon back to the bowl. "Well, I really shouldn't complain. Way better than my life, I guess. At least this hangs together."

"That's a point." Nera flashed a grin that didn't exactly diminish when her sturdy mate came up to them. "Hi Vin. Decided to join the vermin?"

"Wherever you take me, Nera, wherever you take me," Vin Nothos grunted good-naturedly, nodding over his shoulder. "And old Pollard's coming too, I think." He winked to Luke as he seated himself next to Nera, giving her thigh a little squeeze. "So, seems like Dagger Squadron has to come and help an old buddy out when the others fail. I can't believe Brie got the Rogues so messed up."

"Uh. Whoever did the job," Luke muttered, taken aback. "Hi Pollard. Hi Dax." He nodded to the two other B-wing pilots who joined them. Most of his concentration however, was on Nera and Nothos, who undeniably radiated that self-nourishing glow that usually suggested only one thing. Luke found himself smiling for the first time in days. He didn't know what was better; the unexpected backup from the Daggers or that Nera finally seemed to have found someone to replace Biggs.

Perhaps things would sort themselves out after all.

. . .

Mara made sure a few people saw her near Skywalker's cabin, but was also secretly relieved that no one happened to be around when she actually buzzed on his doorcom. No need to overdo it. If she could be seen leaving his cabin section some time later, it should be quite enough. She was still debating with herself whether she should greet the Jedi by expressing her regret about what had happened to Brie or whether she should just ask how he was doing, when the door slid up and she found herself facing Skywalker's baffled features. "Mara?"

"Hello yourself," she replied. All planned approaches immediately went up in smoke. Seeing his surprised expression she could have kicked herself for not realizing before that she couldn't change her attitude towards him just like that. Not without raising a tremendous amount of suspicion. All the time she'd known Skywalker, she'd been barking and snapping at him; there was not a snowflake's chance on Mustafar she could just walz into his cabin and start comforting him in this his time of agony. Besides, she sensed a flicker of of alarm from the Jedi. Skywalker had heard the rumors too. Frack you, Brie!

"Well, can I come in or would you just like to have me stand here until someone really talkative and prone to assumptions comes by?" she growled.

His eyes widened but he stepped back, allowing her access to his cabin. Mara stepped in, the memory of last time she'd been in here blazing through her mind. At least she didn't have to sneak in with a cleaning droid this time. She instantly reproached herself for even thinking about that with the Jedi so close by, but to her relief he seemed too surprised by her emergence to really reach out to her yet. Not giving him time to start, she whirled around to face him. "What the hell have you been telling people?"

Skywalker stared flummoxed at her for a moment, then went redder than Vader's lightsaber. "Nothing!" he barked. "What the hell do you think? That I've made up a story about us or something?"

That was the first time he'd snarled at her ever. Mara found herself looking back at him with renewed interest. "Well, what do I know?" she countered, a bit placated. "People give me looks and murmur behind my back that we've been having an affair. And I know I didn't make it up!"

Skywalker gave her a dirty look, running his hand through his hair, but before it even reached halfway, his annoyance seemed to pour out like wine from a cracking goblet. He sighed and walked to the bed where he sat down, rubbing his forehead. "Shira did." From his very voice she could hear how immensely tired he was. Mara suddenly wondered if he'd been sleeping much the past week.

"Oh." She hesitated a moment, but as she got no invitation from him, she finally grabbed the vacant chair by the table. After another moment still, when he didn't say anything, she added. "I'm sorry." It would have been a mighty hypocritical thing to say, if it wasn't that – much to her own surprise – she truly meant it. She really, really wished things would be different and she earnestly wished he could have a break. Skywalker must have heard the sincerity in her voice because he glanced up, fixating on her for a moment, puzzled again but not declining her sympathy. Then he stared down again, hand still to his temple.

Mara let some time pass, enough that her next words would seem natural. "Why are you putting up with this?"

He glanced up again. "What do you mean?"

She shrugged. "If it was me, you couldn't see my ass for the afterburners. People think you did all that crap – well, let them go krink themselves. Leave. You don't owe them a thing."

"Ah," he looked away again, like her advice was no surprise to him at all. "But I do. I owe them everything."

Mara shook her head. "Why? They think you're some kind of lunatic now, the same people who only days ago hailed you as their hero. Doesn't that show exactly how much you can't count on them?" She was quiet for a while but he made no response so she continued, "Another thing I don't get is this. You have all these mighty powers, yet you're slaving here for the Alliance generals. Why don't they give you more responsibility for a start?"

His voice was quiet. "Oh, believe me, Mara. I have my fair share of responsibility."

Wrong tangent. She tried again. "More power, then. If they trusted…"

Skywalker interrupted her. "That's not important. It never was and it never will be. None of this is about what others think. I have to do what I have to do – stay where I'm supposed to stay. And that's right here, in the Alliance, fighting the Empire. The only question is how I do that best – and what I need to do in order to make that possible."

He was saying exactly what she'd expected of course. He really was as committed and altruistic as she'd thought. And she had to admit she respected him all the more for confirming her assumptions. She was also wickedly delighted, since it meant Brie was going to crash and burn sure as the galaxy spun. Mara gave it a last shot, she was enjoying being right so much. "But what do you get out of this? You're giving everything up – to gain – what?"

"It's not about gaining, Mara. No one here gets a reward, no one expects anything. In the end, we hope to get a free galaxy, but it's not like any of us can count on being alive to experience it. We have to fight anyway." A strange smile played on his lips and he lifted his head, his eyes going to the wall beside her. "Besides, I already got a medal."

Following his glance, Mara saw a medal hanging on the wall. She was sure it hadn't been there last time she'd been in his cabin. Skywalker must have hung it up – when? – after losing everybody's faith? A mocking reminder of how fleeting fame could be…? Something seemed to tighten strangely in her chest.

Luke continued. "I got it for blowing up the Death Star. For killing one million people. After that, I was paraded through the galaxy as a proof that the Alliance was gaining ground. That one man could do a diffference." He was silent for a moment. "It was sick. I hated it, but I didn't see just how insane it was back then. I can now. But I can also see that it was something that had to be done."

"The Death Star or the parading?"

He smiled at her inscrutable response. "Both."

Mara glared at him for a moment. She wasn't at all comfortable with her own conflicting emotions and she was even more unsure about which of them to let out. Not to speak of which of them to act on. She sighed. "All right." They sat together in silence for a moment. "How's your droid?" Mara finally asked, deciding to chance the subject.

"Oh, Artoo…" Skywalker, with amusing predictability, instantly looked abashed. "Sorry, I've forgotten to thank you. I heard that you helped Threepio find him."

"Don't mention it." Mara waved her hand. "How is the little guy?" Another reason to despise Brie. You didn't hurt droids. That was just how it was. They weren't living beings, but their sentient programming gave them near-human experiences and you were supposed to treat them decently. Unless they attacked you or you had to for some other reason, of course. But Brie had had no reason to demolish the astromech – a memory wipe would have been quite enough.

"He's bad off." Skywalker shook his head. "Intel's put our best techs on him in order to find out what happened, but there's been no progress whatsoever. If they can't make it I'll try myself…" His voice trailed off.

Mara understood that he'd have done the whole repair job himself if Intel hadn't overruled him. "I'm sorry," she told him, and she meant it again, damn it! "I just thought… well, you can always restart a machine…"

Luke stared at his hands. "It's like the memory wipe's stuck. He won't restart."

"But if you replace –"

"Then it wouldn't be Artoo," he said simply.

They sat quietly for a while again. Mara didn't know what to say but at least the silence wasn't cramped anymore. Maybe that was enough of an accomplishment for one day. After a moment she asked, "So, no one has any idea what happened? To Artoo, I mean."

Skywalker's voice was thoughtful. "No, but it might have been our arsonist. Artoo was running his own little investigation on the case. He found out that the methane leak had been caused by droids."

"By droids?"

"Yes. Our perpetrator hacked into a maintenance droid and made it loosen a methane pipe housing. He hacked into a few more to mess up the monitors and smoke alarm. Moreover, he was very good at covering his tracks – Intel found nothing when they checked all the droids after the fire."

So that was how Brie had pulled it off. Mara stubbornly refused to blush. The same way she'd herself gained access to Skywalker's cabin – and she hadn't figured it out. Aloud she said, "And Intel knows about this?"

He nodded, fixing those blue eyes on her. Mara held his gaze for a moment, then looked away, again confused by her overflow of incompatible feelings. She was doing exactly what she should here, and on the top of that she was able to be genuine in her concern for the Jedi. Then why did she feel guilty for being here at all?

"Mara..." Skywalker paused a moment. "Why did you come here?"

She glanced back at him, for a moment alarmed, but she saw nothing but earnest interest and a flicker of worry. When she didn't answer right away he continued, "Do you belive what they say about me?"

"Which part of it?" Mara grunted. "I buy that you're a Jedi, if that's what you're asking. But if you mean the part that you've lost your mind and blew up your girlfriend on purpose, then I've left the shuttle. And obviously I don't believe you cheated on her with me, either. I mean, I think I'd have noticed."

He let out a small snorting laugh. "I'd hope so, anyway." He pryed her face. "So, you don't think I'm a lunatic, then?"

Mara rolled her eyes. "Easy now. No one in their full senses would be in this Rebellion in the first place – not to mention strolling straight into Jabba the Hutt's Palace playing one-man army. And you're insanely well-meaning. But anyone who thinks you'd attack your girlfriend are the same ones who were blinded by that Jedi glamour. Now the parade's over and the confetti isn't flying, they think the whole thing was only an act. For my part, I trust what's behind. I don't know what happened on that mission but I'm convinced you did all you could as well as possible."

Relief flickered across his face and Mara reflected that she couldn't be completely insignificant to him if her support meant this much to him. Then he turned serious again. "But it wasn't enough."

"Is it ever?" Mara replied. "You can't let yourself be led by your fears. You try to save the galaxy – fine. But learn to live with the fact that you'll never be able to do it well enough or be everywhere you should. No matter how many times you snatch the whole shebang out of the fire, something new will always come up. It's like cleaning the thrust nozzles – the next time you fly they'll turn black again. And Jedi powers or no you will sometimes just plain fail – just like the rest of us."

A small smile played on Skywalker's lips. "When I dreamed about getting away from Tatooine my uncle used to remind me that no matter where I was, the same problems and disappointments would turn up. 'It's part of being human' he told me. I didn't believe him then but he was probably right."

Mara gave him a crooked grin. "So what, you're getting homesick now?"

"Not for a second." Skywalker shook his head. "Didn't have much to fight for there. I do now."

Again he confirmed her opinion of her. And if she wasn't wrong, something in him had changed during this conversation. He didn't look lost anymore; there was a new air to him, like determination gathering. And that was probably bad for Brie – but good for Mara. She studied him curiously. "So? What are you going to do?"

He still looked at his hands but his voice was soft when answering. "I don't know yet. But you're right that I need to do something. And I will." He straightened to look at her and now his gaze was firm, as was his voice. "Thank you, Mara. You don't know what it means to me that you came around here to talk." He rose, head cocking and eyes turning distant and Mara understood that he was reaching out with the Force. "There's no one out there right now, so if you hurry, I think you can slip out without any one realizing you ever were here."

For a second she wondered whether she should add anything, do something or otherwise try to prolong it. But instead, she just followed her gut feeling that this was as perfect as it could be. She and Skywalker had just had a heart to heart conversation, their first ever – and it had had the invaluable advantage that all she'd said had been absolutely genuine. Her job was done for now. She nodded and got to her feet. "All right. See you later." With that, she left.

.

Luke sat back, Mara's words still buzzing in his head: _So? What are you going to do?_

Han's words: _Always remember to trust your gut feeling. After all, if you don't trust yourself then what have you got?_

Mara's words: _You can't let yourself be led by your fears._

Leia's words: _If you don't, Luke, then who does? You're the last torch-bearer. Don't drop it now!_

All his problems had started when he stopped trusting in himself. Even if Darth Vader was his father, that wasn't a problem or fault that Luke had caused. It was only the other way round. Just like Mara had said: who he was, was a matter of his own choice – not anything others could claim part of, blood ties or not.

The implications finally began to emerge. Even if his father's faults were still Luke's headache, still his responsibility, he couldn't blame himself for _having_ them. So far he had no reason not to trust himself. Even this thing with Shira would turn out to have a reason. Whatever had happened on Aderon, Shira had been lying, _lying_ to people about their relationship and for all he could tell, she had done so even before he threw the grenade on her. He could only guess about her reasons – but he could do something about how he conducted himself.

He needed to constantly question himself, whether he was doing the right thing, but then, that was a basic fact of being a Jedi, wasn't it? And questioning himself wasn't the same as _doubting_ himself. He needed to trust himself. Trust the Force. If he was calm, if he was in control, then the answers would come to him. He would know. Just like Master Yoda had told him.

And suddenly he knew what he had to do. With no hesitation now, his heart finally spoke clearly.

It was time for him to return to Dagobah.

T.B.C.


	25. Chapter 25

**Once again, I have to express my deepfelt thanks for all the encouraging feedback you readers come with. If not for you, I fear I would have abandoned this and jumped on to a shorter story - but you guys make it all worthwhile!**

Kataja

* * *

**Quagmire - Chapter 25 **

**On the Lam**

Han was so absorbed in the_ Falcon_'s hyperdrive that he jumped when someone suddenly emerged behind him from out of nowhere. He whirled up and around, blaster already in his hand and aimed dead-on – at what turned out to be nothing but a wry smile.

"It's only me, Han."

"Sure," Han told him, holstering the gun wih a casual swing. "Keeping in practice, that's all."

He threw a glance down _Falcon_'s main corridor where Luke had appeared so silently, then back at the hyperdrive he'd been tinkering with.

"No one saw me come in," Luke added, nudging Han's toolbox out of the way with his foot.

Luke's reassurance that shouldn't have been necessary pricked the Corellian's heart all the more since he actually _had_ wondered that. "Course they didn't," he grunted. "You sneak around like that much more and you could fool a holocam. I was just wond'ring if I could set this aside for a while. Care for a caf?"

"Yes, please."

As they seated themselves by the game table Luke added. "I think I actually _could_ cheat a holocam. I just haven't figured out how yet."

Han cocked an eyebrow. "Yeah? I vote you start working on that. It could come in handy."

Luke set his head a bit to the side. "I thought you didn't trust the Force?"

"I don't," Han muttered, turning the cup in his hands. Then he added, "But I trust you, kid."

Luke swallowed hard, knowing Han meant those words in a larger context too. "Thanks."

Han peered up, taking in his young friend, feeling everything they hadn't talked about since that damn mission butt in. "Look, I know it's gotta be hell for you, kid. Especially what happened to Shira…"

Luke shook his head. "That's not the main thing getting to me anymore, Han. Honestly, it isn't. It should be maybe, but… something happened this morning in the medbay. I did something stupid, I guess, I actually read Shira's mind with the Force. And, well…" He shut up and took a big bracing swallow of caf.

"And what?" Han prompted, holding his breath. "Did she realize you did that?"

"I'll say she did." Luke's grimace shifted into a frown, another thought striking him. "Which she shouldn't have been able to do in the first place. At least I _think_ she shouldn't - it's not like I'm in the habit of mindreading people around me. I pick up emotions and strong stray thoughts but that's it. Anyway, Shira realized I mind-read her and was out of herself, to put it mildly. And I… I realized that... that this whole thing with Shira was just wrong from the start."

He paused for a moment, considering. "It's strange, Han. I think knew it all the time. I just didn't trust myself because my head and everybody around me told me it would be a great idea."

"Maybe something else than your head too, kid?" Han suggested, a wry smile tugging his lips.

"Can't deny that," Luke admitted. "And it was great while it lasted. But there's no way going back. Absolutely no way."

"I'll say. Got yourself into a hell of a mess this time, kid." Han grinned. "Course it ain't the first time. You'll find a way out of it."

"I'm trying," Luke continued slowly. "I still don't know what happened at Aderon Station and I have no idea how to clear my name, if I even can, and no idea how to proceed from here – except one thing. What's really bugging me now is the same thing that has been bugging me since Bespin. And I have to find an answer to that before I do anything else."

Han straightened slightly. This was _it_. The kid was finally about to tell what he'd been carrying around for so long.

Luke took a deep, bracing breath. "Darth Vader is my father."

There. He'd said it. And the world still stood. The galaxy still turned.

And Han was looking like he'd just told him he liked to wear women's clothing. "Say that again?"

"Darth Vader's my father. He told me at Bespin."

"Hey…" Han scrambled dizzily for words, finding too many and too few of them at the same time. Then his face cleared and he offered. "Kid. You can't trust a word Vader says. He's trying to get to you."

Luke shook his head. "I don't think that's it. I _feel_ it's true. At least... I'm pretty sure _he _believes it."

"Kid…" Han started grinning, shaking his head – but Luke didn't react, not even the slightest grin, and that meant he was serious as hell. Han stilled and his grin died; his concern for the kid flooded to previously unknown heights. Both of them took very deliberate swallows of caf. "So," Han said finally. "Uh. Is there any way you can tell for sure?"

"Yoda knows. The Jedi Master who trained me after Hoth. What I have to do is to go back and complete my training. Which is what I should have done ages ago. But this time I'm going. The situation here is too critical. And I can't act before I know where I stand."

"You're grounded, you know that?"

Luke nodded. "I know."

"Right." Han pursed his lips, hanging on to the nice, concrete inconveniences for a few moments still. Then he scratched his neck. "You really know how to time 'em, don't you?"

"Yeah." Luke bit his lip, forcing himself to break the ice again. "Han, I know what you must be thinking…"

"Hey!" Han shrugged. "It doesn't matter. You have to find out whether that's true or not first. Ok. So go ahead and do it. I'll sleep late tomorrow and won't show up for eleven hours or something."

Luke smiled tightly, knowing what Han agreed to and vowing to himself not to sink the _Falcon _in a swamp. "And if it's true?"

"Well, then we'll see. But I think we shouldn't tell Leia, not yet anyway. She's kinda mad at Vader. Of course she wouldn't be mad at _you_, it's not your fault who your old man is. But anyway. Let's not blow any bombs until we know, right?"

"Right," Luke agreed dryly. "And no grenades either. And Han…" His face softened.

"Yeah?"

"You're a pal."

. . .

Ackbar and Mon Mothma stood together in the High Command Assembly Room, the rest of the commanders having retired for the night.

"We can count the days now," Ackbar insisted. "Our decisive move is approaching - and we need Skywalker."

"Admiral Gelsk wouldn't agree with you," Mothma pointed out, her face having lost none of its calm. "He's still not convinced that trusting the Jedi is such a good thing."

Ackbar shook his heavy head in frustration. "He is one out of eleven! Why does his word count for so much?"

"Because about half of the reast of the Alliance are inclined to think like him," Mothma replied. "At least they share his fears."

"But we do," Ackbar insisted. "You do, Mon. What is your view on this all?"

The former senator sighed. "To tell the truth, I've been trying to avoid that question, since it has very little relevance in the larger perspective. But as you point out, I do believe, and I admit willingly that I have always seen young Skywalker as the one who could shoulder the role of continuing the heritage of the Order. If he doesn't, then the light of the Jedi will forever have gone out of the galaxy. We've already seen how dark it can be without them." She shook her head, expression sad. "The question is, however, is he ready? Will he ever _be _ready? It's his decision, and we can't push him."

"So you don't fear the rumors that Vader could somehow have gotten hold of his mind?"

"No," Mon said firmly. "Not at all. I think Vader gave Commander Skywalker a shock at their last meeting, that's all – and I suspect that the reason why Vader didn't kill him is that he sees the same potential in the boy as we do and hopes to control it himself. In all this time, I've seen young Luke's changed mood as a sign of growth, of maturing. What's less certain is whether he's grown enough. He's still a boy, of years if not of experiences." She gave a deep, troubled sigh. "My hope is that all these recent adversities would make the final push, would force him to see that he simply _has_ to take the step. Make him see that if he doesn't, then _no one_ does."

Ackbar nodded solemnly, remembering the exchange they'd had with Luke some weeks ago. "Do you remember some time ago when he tried to decline the mission but we talked him out of it? Do you think he sensed upcoming trouble back then?"

Mon smiled briefly. "That would be first time I've seen _that_ young man shy away from trouble. No. I don't think so. I just think things have a way of closing in at the same time." She was quiet a while. "There's one thing about Luke Skywalker, though, that we should remember. He's at his best when everyone sells him short. He will find his way still. And so will we. We just have to wait, and prepeare – and trust in the Force."

Ackbar nodded solemnly.

. . .

Mara walked to her shift the next day with a strange mix of apprehention and expectance. She flashed the DO such a smile in return to his routine greeting that he sidestepped and turned to stare after her. Several times.

Something was going to happen. She could feel it, right down to her tingling toes. The discussion she'd had with Skywalker yesterday had left her top tuned, and while she less than ever believed that the Jedi would run into the Empire's arms, she was open to about anything else. He had told her he would do _something_ – and she just knew it would be soon.

She felt more elated than she had in weeks.

. . .

In contrast, Leia's mood had been as low this morning as it had been for several mornings in a row. And it didn't exactly brighten at the sight of the crew that was hobbling down the modified YT-2400 freighter. Silently quoting an ancient Alderanian prayer for strength, she hurried her step through the small port side hangar. By the time she got there, half the crew was huddling on a troop carrier already, only Wedge Antilles standing alert and talking to Madine.

Good old Wedge, Leia thought fondly. She'd had word that the mission hadn't been successful, but at least he'd managed to get his crew home. Which left this mission in an almost opposite to Luke's; no one missing but mission failed. She eased up from the side, careful not to interrupt Madine and Wedge, and turned to the crew on the carrier.

"How are you?" Leia inquired softly of Wes Jansen who'd eased himself to lie down on the benches on one side of the carrier. He was far paler than she cared for.

Wes opened an eye. "Oh, just a chestshot, Princess," he murmured, flashing his customary cocky smile. "A punctured lung, but don't worry, the other one's still working."

Leia looked up in alarm. "You shouldn't be on a troop carrier - you should be on a med stretcher. Deck Officer…"

"No panic, Princess," Hobbie Klivian assured her from the other side of the carrier. "Deena patched that lung in the life support station two days ago and it has held up fine since. And if you put Wes in a med stretcher he won't be able to wave to the ladies and all his fine plans of a Grand Return will fall flat to the ground. You can't do that to him, he'd relapse."

Leia arched an eyebrow. "And how are _you_ doing, Hobbie?"

Hobbie pulled his trouser leg up and revealed a gaping nothing. "Oh, I was lucky. I got my leg blown off, but it was my prosthetic so I'll just get a new one. It made running a bit hard though, and when sweet Deena tried to help me" – he threw her a kiss – "she got shot too."

Leia swallowed hard and glanced at Deena. "And how bad is…"

"Only my arm, Princess," she assured quickly. "If we hadn't had to inject all bacta into Wes I'd be fixed by now."

Leia shook her head, not able to hold back a proud smile. "You guys are simply the best! I hope you know it. Now get to the medbay! I don't want you to delay here for my sake!"

She waved as the troop carrier set off, then turned to Wedge and Madine, her voice turning serious again. "All right. What happened? Did you find Vrock Sai'men?"

Wedge rubbed his temple tiredly. "We did. In the detention block of Savolak Station as Intel said. But by the time we managed to break in, it was too late. We tried to hack into their computer to find out how much they had squeezed out of him but…" He shook his head.

"You did your best," Leia stated automatically. "You did your best."

Madine nodded. "Well, we knew it was a strong possibility from the outset. Countermeasures went into effect as soon as we heard of his capture. As sad as it is to see a good man go, we've been able to stop the damage from spreading."

Wedge's head snapped up. "You have? And are you aware too, that the mission was sabotaged?"

"Sabotaged?" Leia and Madine gasped in unison.

"That's my view on it, yes," Wedge confirmed grimly. "As I suppose you remember, we carried with us portable gravity convertors –"

"The DK-91's," Madine nodded. "I oversaw that modification project personally."

"Well, when we tested them en route they worked fine – but not when we came to Bothawui. I tell you, any of Wes or Hobbie's bad jokes would have knocked out more gravity than they did. We had our magnetic soles on, of course, and were expecting the guards to be bouncing like bubbles around the ceiling – but they all held ground as firmly as we did. For a while we were confused and thought they wore magnetic soles too but then we spotted a dust-mouse running right smack on the decks and we _knew_ that they didn't work." Wedge shrugged. "Someone must have sabotaged them."

Leia's eyes darted to the hangar exit where the troop carrier had disappeared with Deena, Wes and Hobbie. "You think..."

"Of course not," Wedge growled. "Apart from trusting those people with my life, there would have been plenty of times each of them could have pulled the last ace and got the rest of us captured or killed." He shook his head. "It had to have been somebody here on Home One."

"A time-delayed sabotage," Madine mumbled, his hands balling to fists. "Captain, who knew about those convertors?"

"Apart from the techs who modified them and those you've told it was only me and Luke."

Madine and Leia exchanged started glances. "Are you sure no one else knew?" Leia asked intently. "_No_ one?" _It couldn't be, it _couldn't_…_

The pilot frowned as he searched his memory. "Well, the idea was Luke's originally but… Oh, I remember now. He got the idea from Shira when they had their dinner date, she told him a story… well never mind that, but she also gave him the tip about the DK-91'ers. But he wouldn't have told her what they'd be used for, of course."

Madine looked tensely at Leia, then at Wedge again. "Did she know that Commander Skywalker was involved in your mission?"

"Well, we _always_ team up. All Rogues would know that – or well, guess anyway," Wedge shrugged.

"And she would have known they wouldn't be used on her own mission," Leia murmured. "General…?"

Madine looked at Wedge. "Captain. Everything that we've been talking these past minutes is strictly confidential! Everything about your mission is still strictly confidential! You run after your crew _right now_ and tell them to shut up about _anything_ that happened on that mission, anything at all, do you understand? Then you are to go to your cabin and make your report. I'll contact you shortly."

Wedge didn't even blink. "Aye, sir. Princess." He saluted, turned on a heel and sprinted towards a parked troop carrier.

Madine met Leia's glance and shook his head. "Well, I'll be damned."

. . .

Han had been slouching in bed this morning, wondering what excuse he should use for not going to tinker with _Falcon_ – he was leaning towards breaking out some Whyren's and (mostly) feigning a hangover – but was relieved from his troubles when his com sounded.

"Captain Solo?" a female voice called. "This is technician Ilo. I suppose you're familiar with a wrecked astromech droid that was left with us some days ago? I have some news about it."

Han was up in a second. "Artoo? Spill it!"

"Actually, I think you should come see for yourself," the voice came back. "I'm in port side hangar nine."

It didn't take Han more than five minutes to be on spot, though he silently chided himself for running like a madman because of a droid. He was met by an athletic, sharp-eyed woman with a shaved head. "Captain Solo?" She held out her hand. "I'm Plourr Ilo. Nice to meet you. Intel left this droid for Chief Tech Kajal so that he could find out if there was anything to salvage, and so he's spent the past days restoring it very thoroughly. In the end, through, he just couldn't get it started again without a memory system replacement – and he'd got specific orders to leave the original memory unit intact. So he gave it up a few days ago, reporting back to them that it was far too damaged. Now, I knew it is Commander Skywalker's personal droid, and knowing all that crap he's been catching lately, I decided to give it a last try. You see, I know this droid has its particular history and I couldn't help putting two and two together."

She led him to Artoo, who'd been shined up and provided with new coverplates where the blast holes had been. "Apparently, Commander Skywalker had never had his droid memorywiped so I went on to check the files of this particular unit. I found out that first time it was reported damaged was during the battle of Yavin. Already then, the techs noticed that it had an outstandingly long memory, going back at least twenty years, maybe more. The last wipes or system updates they could read then were back from the time of the Clone Wars. All this makes this astromech completely unique. It must almost have developed its own personality by now."

"No kidding," Han growled. Artoo was almost a living being to Luke, he knew, about like the_ Falcon_ was to him. And Han couldn't deny, that even to him, the little astromech was something of a character.

Ilo crouched beside Artoo. "Now, some of those old updates were very advanced, a few of them even very expensive too – and they certainly were untraditional with all kinds of crosswiring and so forth. And I thought, maybe we should give this particular droid a chance? Who knows what's hiding deep inside its circuits? And since I couldn't find out what to do with it technically, I decided to treat it like a sentient who's lost his memory: I took it to a place where it would feel completely familiar and safe – the socket of Skywalker's X-wing."

Han blinked. That was… brilliant. It was completely whacko too of course, to treat a droid like that, but none the less brilliant! And he who'd just linked Artoo and the_ Falcon_! Funny they'd both be so crosswired and maintained by loving hands. For a moment Han sent a fond thought to the former owner of Artoo, who ever he'd been. "So, what happened?" he demanded.

Plourr Ilo pursed her lips. "I'm not quite sure yet. But something did, that's for sure. When I placed the droid in the X-wing and connected it to the ship's computer its dome started swirling, for about half an hour. Then it suddenly went quiet and all the lights went out and I thought, 'that was that. It couldn't make anymore but at least it died a happy droid.' I was just about to take it out again when I noticed that there was a little blue light burning that hadn't been there before." She pointed at a diode on Artoo's dome that Han had never paid attention to before either.

"About twenty minutes later it started to hum, very quietly at first, a low sound from the direction of its central processing array. It continued to hum the entire night – I went to bed but left a computer to monitor it and alert me if something special happened. For the last twelve hours nothing more has happened than that sound and indicator lights have gone on and off. I took it out of the X-wing when I felt confident that the process, whatever it is, is up and running. Right now it's silent again as you can hear, but that little blue light is still on. It has been on since."

Han scratched his neck. "And what do you think it all means?" His interest in and affection for all things mechanical had never extended to droids. He also felt a bit stupid because his heart was beating, ridiculously hard.

"As I said, I'm not sure yet, Captain." Ilo repeated somberly. "But my best guess is that this droid is in fully occupied with restarting itself. Technically speaking it's quite possible, Lieutenant Kajal has restored all wirings and supplied it with the parts needed. I'm optimistic that if we give it time, it will come back to, maybe not completely to its 'old self,' but pretty near. If I were you, I'd take it some safe place where you could keep an eye on it and where you can be sure no mainstream-thinking technician can be tempted to replace the memory card. Just let it be and see what happens."

"Right…" Han rubbed his chin, wondering if he should try to contact Luke and tell him the news. On the other hand, now might be a bad moment...

"And Captain Solo," Ilo added when Han had managed to get Artoo on a troop carrier and was starting to roll away.

"Yeah?"

She smiled, her face stern face lighting up. "If there is any progress, please let me know."

. . .

About the same time, Luke Skywalker appeared in the main hangar. Not many people noticed him at all, and even fewer reacted at the sight of him as they had the past days. They merely noticed his presence, only to forget it the moment after.

Luke approached the _Falcon_ as slowly as he dared. He wanted to be sure nobody approached him, and that required a great deal of low-level Force-persuasion, even though the hangar was still pretty quiet this early on the day. He wasn't sure that he'd be able to extend all the way to the control-room with his influence, and if he moved too slowly, they might smell the womp rat. He wondered if he'd managed to decieve the holocams. If he had – and if he'd ever be able to _find out_ whether he had or not – he'd tell Han about it, a small gesture of gratitude to the Corellian who'd made sure to update the_ Falcon_'s supplies last evening.

He bit down a curse when he observed Mara Jade by one of the starfighters, standing still and staring at him with that fazing, unblinking stare she could put on. He gave her a curt nod and sent her a Force nudge to go on with her work. She cocked an eyebrow in response, then turned demonstratively slowly and continued her work, leaving him in no doubt whatsoever that she was doing it by her own decision and not due to his manipulation.

Luke's stomach did a nervous flip. Clearly she had noticed he was up to something, but it seemed like she wasn't about to try to stop him. Well, why should she? She had herself encouraged him to do _something_ and it seemed that despite declaring allegiance to her employer, the Rebel Alliance, she still had some bond to him too. He'd saved her life, of course, but thatnot withstanding Luke had a profound feeling there was more to it than that. He shook his head, not sure whether he should be annoyed or amused; he _had _to figure this woman out at some point. _I bet it will be full-time work when I finally get to it…_

He hurried his steps to get past her and there was the_ Falcon_, right ahead, its familiar, beaten up hull ripping up memories in him. Luke threw a wary glance towards the control room. The freighter was turned in perfect angle to hide it from curious eyes – as well as security cams – probably due to Han's smuggler's habits. Now, all Luke had to do was to hurry onboard and…

"Commander…? Er… Mr. Skywalker…"

Luke froze, his foot on the landing ramp. He'd slipped his attention. _Jade, damit!_ A few meters from him stood a guard who he recognized as Zevv Irischtan. Not one of Luke's close friends but a good and upright soldier, Luke knew. And unfortunately also someone who both knew and did his duty. Luke's heart pivoted. Zevv wasn't weak minded, not the slightest, and he was already alert on Luke's presense and the suspicious nature about it… _Here you go, Skywalker. You've had _months_ to leave but you just _had_ to wait until you got grounded…_

Zevv cleared his throat. "I'm sorry to inform you that according to my information you are grounded at present. Therefore I can't allow you access to a ship. Not unless it's in the presence of the owner who has a clearance or you can show me papers that…"

A dampered rumble interrupted him. Out of the shadows Chewbacca appeared and was at Zevv's side with a few long steps. Without further ceremony he grabbed the man's weapon and broke it in two. Then he leaned down to look the guard into the eyes, snapping the com from his belt and rumbling quietly again.

Zevv turned whiter than the ship hull above him. "I… er, I didn't mean to… Of course you count as the owner as well, Mr. Chewbacca… I just… um… " He started to back away.

Mara Jade chose this moment to appear from behind her B-wing. "Sergeant?" she called in a husky voice Luke had never even dreamt she possessed. "Is it time for your break as well? I wonder if you'd join me for a caf…"

She gave Luke a light smile and laced her arm into Zevvs "…in the control room?" she finished. "I thought we could cheer the boys there up a little. Did you happen to see my dance the other day?" She started to stroll towards the exit, pleasantly chatting in a tempo where it clearly would take them several minutes to close the distance.

Luke woke from his paralysis. "Thanks Chewie! I'd better use the time you've bought to me to get out of…"

The Wookiee rumbled and Luke started. "'_We'd_ better go?' No, Chewie, I can't let you get into hot water because of me. I appreciate it but… _Hey!_"

The Wook had come up to him and before Luke had guessed his intentions, Chewie lifted him up, tugging him under his mighty arm and started carrying him onboard the ship.

"Let go! Put me down! That's an order, blast it! PUT ME…" Luke kicked and protested but one look into his friends eyes told him he would have to use the Force in the harshest way imaginable in order to get Chewbacca to change his mind

"Oh, what the kreth…" With a sigh he relaxed and allowed the Wookiee to carry him onboard, silently praising that stubborn, loyal heart beating under the thick, brown-furred chest.

.

Mara babbled amiably as she pulled Zevv with her, strolling towards the entrance. Not before they ambled more than halfway to the control room did the shocked sec officer finally wake up. He tore his arm back and started to run. "C'mon! Hurry!" he shouted over his shoulder.

"What _for_?" Mara pouted, and began to jog herself at a slightly slower pace that she hoped might slow the Sergeant down a bit. At least it might if he got the impression she was following the best she could.

She managed so well with a mix of questions and breaks that the _Falcon_ was well into its start cycle when they finally reached the control room.

"Right, _Millenium Falcon_, you're clear to leave," she heard the attending officer state into his com.

"Stop!" Zevv rushed in as if a pack of nexu were snapping at his heels. "Rescind that! It's Skywalker! He's trying to leave!"

The attending officer turned, face a mixture of surprise and straight-tout astonishment. "What? But it's Chewbacca piloting and he's as cleared as Captain Solo…?"

"Take the clearance back! Immediately! I take full responsibility!" Zevv bellowed.

The officer turned the com back on. "_Millenium Falcon_, _Millenium Falcon_. Your clearance is withdrawn. I repeat; you clearance to leave is withdrawn. We will _not_ open the gates and…" His eyes grew wide when he realized what was about to happen. "Do not power up! We will _not _open the gates…" He silenced in confusion as the freighter lifted on its repulsors and turned its nose cannonstowards the closed hangar opening.

"He can't do that…" he said in a meek voice.

Mara took a deep breath. Skywalker _was_ as crazy as she'd believed him to be. And now it was up to her. She reached out with the Force, focusing on one, specific button on the panel, feeling its form and size through the Force. She concentrated all her will – and pushed.

Followed by the shocked cries from the bystanders, the _Millenium Falcon_ shot out through the suddenly revealed hangar opening - and disappeared into space.

T.B.C.


	26. Chapter 26

Sorry for the delay everybody! I owe my thanks to**_ frodo_** - now also for fighting breaking technology to let me get my chapter posted! ;-) This time special thanks also goes to **_blank_** for taking time to read this through! :D

And - not least - my deepfelt thanks to you readers for the many, wonderful reviews!

* * *

**Quagmire - Chapter 26**

**Dagobah**

It was a strange sensation to stand in the middle of Dagobah's swamps again, as boiling with life and sounds as he remembered. In his dreams Luke had been here innumerable times during the past months, and though he had never much cared for the terrain, it was still, strangely, like coming home.

Chewie grumbled, uncertain, and Luke nodded in assurance. "Sure, you can come along. A few of the things that I'll have to find out are personal, but I'll tell you when we come to that. I'd really like you to meet my Master!"

It had been unbelievably nice to have company on the flight. They had talked, played and joked and Chewie had told him about his homeworld of Kashyyyk where the wroshyr threes grew and within whose mighty branches his kinsmen built their homes and cities. Luke had felt a wonderful relief being in the company of a friend he could trust utterly, and had actually managed to push away the fears of what truths waited at the end of the journey. The elation of finally being on his way and the certainty that he was doing the right thing had filled him completely.

Now, however, padding the quagmire, Yoda's familiar hut coming into sight, the dread wormed back into his mind again. The little Jedi Master was nowhere to be seen, though he beyond doubt must have sensed their coming a long time ago, and no smoke rose from the chimney of the little hut.

Chewie grumbled and Luke had to concede his point. "No, Jedi Masters apparently don't give much mind to their houses." He snorted, amused, suddenly remembering Ben's deserted cottage where he and Chewie had stood together only weeks ago. "This one's rather cosy on the inside, though. If you want to see for yourself you can peek in through a window, doubt you'll fit inside." Luke crouched and crawled inside.

Yoda wasn't in the house either, but the coals in the fireplace still glowed. Reaching out with his senses, Luke sighed with relief – the old Jedi Master was close by and approaching. Luke stirred the coals, adding kindling until there was a small fire going again. If Yoda was coming, he might as well make the cottage a little more welcoming. Luke knew how stiff his Master's old joins were, and warmth was the best medicine.

He heard Chewie bark in surprise on the outside, and Luke guessed that the Wookiee had gotten his eyes onYoda. He hurried out but stopped dead in surprise at the scene unfolding before his eyes.

Chewbacca was crouching on the mossy ground. Before him, diminutive in comparision to

the squatting giant, was Yoda. Even as Luke watched, the Wookiee lowered his other arm to the ground and Yoda stepped onto it, Chewie lifting him to eye level. A happy smile creased the wrinkled features of the Jedi Master as the Wookiee's big paw nuzzled his ears tenderly.

"Yes, warms my heart this does," Luke heard Yoda chuckle in that familiar, almost guttural voice – and Force! how good it was to hear that voice again, in person now! "A welcome and surprising joy this is, yes."

"Master?" Luke hurried to them and while welcomed by two beaming faces, he was shocked by how thin and frail his Master had become since their last meeting. His heart twisted. He shouldn't have stalled…

Chewie turned, growling and amused, to Luke who had to protest. "Hey? How could I have known you two had already met?"

Master Yoda smiled. "Many years ago we met. Oh yes. Short was the time but good and true. Changed the destiny of the galaxy the Wookiees did by their choice. Yes. Chewbacca and his friends helped me to escape the Jedi purges." His face turned sad. "Harsh was the fate the Jedi faced that day. Cruel was the Emperor's revenge on the Wookiees."

Chewie growled a defiant answer and the old Master smiled. "A true blessing is the faithfulness that lives in the chest of a Wookiee. Shine back upon your kinsfolk, may it."

Luke swallowed hard, surprised but instinctively silent. Yoda and Chewie shared memories of a galaxy long before his lifetime and he held his quiet, allowing them their moment.

He didn't have to wait long. Yoda laid his small hand on Chewbacca's mighty one and squeezed it gently. "Short our time is, my friend. Missed you I have, miss me you will. But what time I have left, my apprentice will be needing."

The Wookiee gruffed his reluctant consent and started to lower him to again but Yoda sighed wearily, closing his eyes for a moment. "Carry me you may, my friend. Our last walk together, this will be."

As Chewie obeyed, starting towards the house, Yoda peered cheerfully at Luke. "Walking around I was, waiting for you. Too far I strayed, and had to sit and rest my legs for a while. Therefore late I was for your coming."

Luke nodded politely, but Yoda reached out to poke at him with his gimmerstick. "That face you make. Old and weak I am to young eyes, eh? But when nine hundred years old you reach, run around so nimbly you will not!"

Inside his hut Yoda limped to his bed and left it to Luke to feed the fire. The Old Jedi Master laid down on his back with a heavy sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. But when Luke came to sit by his side he opened his eyes and merriment still glowed in them as he peered at his apprentice.

Luke cleared his throat. "Master, I've come to complete my training."

Yoda gave a much softer smile than Luke had this far seen on that wrinkled face – and perhaps there was even a touch of pride in it. "No more training do you need. Taught you everything I could, I did. And well have you learned it. One thing only remains. Your fear you must face. Only then, a Jedi you will be."

Luke looked at Yoda. He wanted protest that his fears were so many that if he had to face them all it would take a lifetime… Only, he _knew_ of course. Deep inside, he knew exactly which fear it was that he would have to confront.

"The Force runs strong in your family," the old Jedi continued. "Pass on what you have learned."

Which reminded him of another urgent question. Luke hurried to grab this issue, handily postponing the one he feared even more.

"In my family, Master? But what about the regulation of non-attachment? That was a rule of the Jedi Order, wasn't it? Are you saying I should abandon that?"

Yoda's old features wrinkled to a mournful expression and he sighed. "Served the Jedi well for centuries, this rule did. Broke it, some did; regretted and came back repentant. Many others, their hearts they broke instead. Obi-Wan was one of them, yes."

"Obi-Wan?"

The old Jedi Master continued, almost oblivious to Luke's surprise. "Many faced hardships keeping this requirement. Perhaps too heavily was it enforced for humans. But great must the warning be, for so great a danger."

Luke's head spun from the revelations. "What are the dangers, Master?"

Yoda gruffed. "Understand this you do not, neh? Or you want your old Master to tell you everything like one tells a child? A Jedi always calm should be, only then he can know what he has to do. Attachment leads to love. Love leads to passion. Passion always to the dark side will threaten. The only allegiance a Jedi should have is to the Force, yes? The galaxy. The Order, perhaps. Never to a person."

Luke shook his head. "But Master, no one can live a life without attachments, there are so many..."

"Many attachments, huh?" Yoda grumbled. "A fine soup that would be. Jedi goes to bed with girl. Jedi leaves girl."

"I didn't mean it like _that_ –" Luke started, trying to push guilty thoughts of various redheaded girls away, but Yoda only raised his voice, ignoring him.

"Jedi goes to bed with another girl. Girl's heart is broken. Talk there would be that Jedi uses the Force to get his ways, eh? Mindtricks! Sorcery! Gone all respect for the Order would be. A Jedi should keep his distance. Remain detached." Yoda lifted his finger to poke Luke in the chest. "Not run around being common among people."

Luke sighed. "If I had known everything that I should and shouldn't do from the start, I think I would have realized this wasn't anything for me. I can't withdraw from people. I can't close myself off. I can separate reason from feelings and maybe suppress my body, but I can't isolate myself completely from other people."

That made the old creature almost sit up in his bed. "And neither should you! A reason there was that I told you so little from the start. If everything had you known from the first, you would have run away, screaming like a mynock. And with good reason. Smart I had to be." He sank down again and chuckled a little.

After a moment, he continued. "Close yourself off you should not. Act with dignity, yes, not be openmouthed and reckless as you once were. Yet, changed you have, mm?" He peered at his apprentice. "And change also must the Jedi. Not the last of the old Jedi are you, but the first of the new. The rules of the old Jedi order, you should use, if help you they do. Learn them, reflect on them, contemplate on their purpose. If they distract you and add to your hardships, then leave them be you should."

"Master Yoda…"

"The Force, always in motion it is. The galaxies are turning, life is flowing. Sure this alone is; nothing remains as it was. And so the Jedi too should change. Listen to the Force. Guide you it will. Learn your own heart, your own mind. Your task this will be. _You_ will bring this forth. Pass on only what you believe is true."

"Can I trust this?" Luke wondered. The immense weight that was being put on his shoulders made him falter.

"Trust me not. Search in the Force. There all your answers should be."

Luke nodded, the matter settling. He could trust his own perceptions, was free to make his own mistakes. That he could manage. He still did not know how, but he would have to trust the road to appear as he walked it.

Then there was the other thing. The one he couldn't manage on his own.

"Yoda, there's something else…. A thing I've searched for in the Force…."

The old Jedi Master turned, wary.

Luke braced himself. "Is… Darth Vader my father?"

The old body stiffened, eyes veiled, tumbled back. "Tired I am now, yes… tired… sleep I should…"

"Yoda, I must know."

Yoda closed his eyes. "Told you that he did?"

"Yes."

"Searched in the Force you have?"

"Yes."

Yoda sighed. "Then know you should…"

"Yes, but Yoda, I need you to tell this to me."

The old Jedi Master seemed to crumble, resigned. "Your father he is."

And there it was. The truth. And Luke realized instantly that he'd known for a long time already. Had known since Vader had first uttered his claim in Bespin's windy shaft, winds howling through body and soul. He had done everything in his power these last months to escape the knowledge, clinging desperately to denial first, then later to the lack of confirmation. Still, at some point during this long winding road that time had built, he had accepted. That was the reason why he was here now. The truth, when finally revealed, did not turn his world anymore. His world had already turned.

After a long silence Yoda spoke again. "Hard it can be to discover truths in the Force. Harder it is to discover secrets you do not know exist. One more secret remains about your heritage."

Luke's head jerked up, a sudden hope sparking. "My mother?"

Yoda shook his head, saddened. "Dead your mother is. Died in childbirth, as your father feared she would. Drove him to the Dark Side it did, the fear of this loss…That is how attachment can endanger everything. Train yourself to let go of what you hold dear. Love and rejoice, but know that loss must follow. Death – part of life it is. A joining in the Force. Everything will end. Learn to lose what you love most, or the ones you love will lose you. Can you love on those terms?"

Luke faltered a moment at the direct question. He thought of his uncle and aunt, how they had raised him and been violently killed. His friend Biggs, killed at the Death Star; Ben, ripped away from him far too soon. Friends, comrades, loved ones; faces and names forming a long, far too long list; Able, Needa, Berl, Frija, Dack, Alph, Artoo, countless of others…

Yet, would he rather never have known them? Or was he prepared to pay the price? Bad as they'd already been, the cost could still get worse. What had his father been up against, faced with the loss of his wife, maybe his child too? The death of a child? Luke's heart swelled with compassion, pain easily responding to this unknown degree of agony… yet, would he himself rather never feel, never love, never hope?

"I understand," he finally exclaimed. "And I would go far to save those I care for, but you already know that."

Yoda nodded. "Your friends, yes. Your feelings for them are strong." He glanced at the door where the tall Wookiee waited just outside. "Their love and faith for you, equally strong are they."

He fell silent for a time, then spoke again, an urgent note to his voice. "This is how it will be then. But learn to hide your feelings you must! Your doom they can become more easily than you think. Luke… Never underestimate the Emperor. Beware of the Dark Side… Remember what you have learned. Trust the Force. Always. "

He broke off in a coughing attack and Luke felt a chill down his spine at the reminder of how their talk was tiring the old Master. "Yoda, you should rest…"

"Rest I will. Soon, rest forever. This is the way of the Force. Twilight is upon me, yet one more thing you must know. Luke, search in the Force, close to yourself. Another you will find."

"Now?"

Yoda nodded. "Now."

Luke closed his eyes and reached out, into the pulsating, glowing energy and felt. He sensed himself, and it was like sending himself for the first time. He sensed Vader far away, his father, he touched him, hurried away again, now surprised he had ever doubted, so clear did the connection seem. He searched onwards, plunged through the galaxy for those near to him; sensed Mara, much to his surprise, a clear, fervent glow, spurring and steadfast; a few others; Shira a glint of live coal, burning and corroding, then – warm, light, close as a breath – _Leia_.

Entwined with himself, yet completely different, so strong, so determined, yet so similar…he had never seen this either! Never realized! Delighted astonishment bounded up in him.

"I have a sister."

His own words woke him from his meditation. When he opened his eyes, he saw the old Jedi Master smiling at him. Luke realized he was grinning back himself, a foolish, happy smile. Then Yoda's eyes fell closed and his head sank down to his breast. As Luke watched, his body slowly dissolved into the Force and disappeared.

. . .

The coals on the fireplace had burned out and the stars had begun to emerge outside in the distant sky above the gnarltrees before Luke finally came out of the small hut again. Chewie was standing outside - his phenomenal alien patience a constant source of wonder to Luke - and growled a question. Luke nodded.

"Yes, he's gone." He was quiet a moment. Chewie rumbled softly.

"Thanks," Luke mumbled. "But you knew him too."

Chewie rumbled again, voice even more gentle now, and Luke swallowed hard. "Well, I guess. I only had a few weeks with him, though. There was so much I never had the time to ask him. Never had time to learn. And now he's gone and I…" Words choke in his throat as he suddenly felt the monstrous burden upon his shoulders, the massive weight of being the last, the last of the Jedi.

"I don't know how I can do it, Chewie," he mumbled. "Go on alone…"

"The Force will be with you. Always."

Luke straightened at the voice and Chewie automatically reached for his bowcaster. He let his paw sink again as he saw Luke set out unalarmed towards the strange, blue glowing figure, and suddenly he recognized Ben Kenobi's features. Under any other circumstances, Chewie would have been frightened or surprised or most likely both, but here in Luke's strange Force domain, nothing could really upset him anymore. He humphed in mild resignation at this latest supernatural anomaly and settled down on a tree stump again, listening to the exchange between Luke and his first Master.

.

"I can't do this, Ben. Someone else – not me."

"It's you and your abilities, Luke. You were chosen. The Emperor himself fears you."

Luke shook his head, looking small and desolate. "But I can't. I'm a nobody from a farm."

"The fate of the entire galaxy will rely completely on the abilities you alone possess and wield." Kenobi answered simply. "Don't belittle yourself, Luke. Never overestimate yourself either, but stay strong, in faith. You are already strong in the Force."

"But I can't control it," Luke protested. "Wasn't that what you and Yoda said when I left last time?"

Ben smiled a little. "That has changed in the past months."

Luke hung his head, his last excuse gone. "I know."

"And so you too have changed," Ben confirmed. "Matured. Clear your heart of fears, Luke. Listen to the Force. It will guide you. The galaxy needs you. Leia needs you."

Luke nodded. That, at least, was something he believed in. The rest would just have to follow.

. . .

"I can't believe this!"

Wedge's words didn't exactly ease the feeling in Rogues Squadron's rest room. Will, Tarrin and Wald were trading shifty looks, deeply embarrassed, and Keir Santage was staring stubbornly at his shoetips. Kirst, Alph's replacement and a new recruit who hadn't even met his benched squad commander yet, glanced nervously from one to the other while Thorben stood grim, his arms crossed over his chest. Only Karie did her best to explain.

"But Wedge, what are you saying we should had done? Luke isolated himself as soon as he came back and Shira's still in the medbay! None of us have managed to get permission to visit her! It's her word against his! And well, Hanc has been telling us something isn't right here but he has no more clue of what to make of it than anybody else."

"Only this, Karie," Thorben growled. "I don't know what happened to Luke at Aderon but I trust he reacted to what he genuinely thought was right. And all those spice suckers trying to paint him as some lunatic, they don't have a kriffing clue what really happened!"

Wedge snorted. "Since when does ignorance prevent people from having an opinion? Of course Luke did what he thought was right! He always does! You guys should know this better than anyone else! I can't believe you've been brooding here with your heads stuck up your afterburners when you should have been out there covering his six!"

"Don't you understand?" Karie insisted. "If we take a stand for Luke, we go against Shira! It's him or her."

Wedge studied her, eyes like durasteel. "Is that so? Well, tell me one thing, then. Do you, even for a moment, really believe that Luke launched that grenade on Shira with purpose? That he did so intending to kill her? To harm her? Or even that he threw it aware that she was in fireline?"

"He knew she was inside that ship…"

"He knew that she had been inside that ship ten minutes earlier. Then everything started to go ballistic and he got a warning from the Force – the kind of a warning that has saved his life – and the lives of _each and every person in this room_ –"

Keir Santage coughed and scratched his scalp, attempting to point out that this was only almost true. Wedge ignored him. " – countless times! Can you blame him for acting on that? Are you telling me that after all the times he's snatched your pretty little tail out of the frying pan, you think he'd try to vape his own wingmate?"

Karie hung her head. "No."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," Wedge growled, " 'cause neither do I. When the hell did this thing go critical anyway? 'Him or her'! Nine Hells of Corellia! I've never heard anything so far out in my life! And I've read Imperial propaganda!"

"They say Shira accused Luke of trying to kill her," Will Scotian muttered.

Wedge flung out his arms, exasperated. "Well, the girl hit her head in that explosion, didn't she? She's in shock. She's excused, I suppose, but why the hell does anyone pay attention to what she's saying?"

"Maybe because she's been saying things about Luke before that too," Wald pointed out. "She's been talking about him with other people and they're saying Luke's been violent towards her, even cheating on her."

"Luke? _Cheating_?" Wedge forgot to close his mouth. "What idiot came up with that one? And are you telling me anyone _believes _that pudu?"

"Many people do," Karie maintained. "Most of Shira's own squadron is standing united of course, and so are the techs, SO's - you name it. People who liked Shira and feel sorry for her. They won't accept your 'she-hit-her-head' explanation. They think it's Luke who's been filling his head with Jedi mysticism so badly that he's stopped being reliable."

Wedge stared at Karie in disbelief. "Has Shira ever spoken to you about any of this?"

"No, but…"

"I thought you two were sort of best friends or something?"

Karie swiped angrily at tears of frustration. "I thought so too. Evidently not."

A terrible thought started to dawn on Wedge. "Then who's she been feeding this shavit to? Kasan? Or Cinda? Any of you, her old mates?"

Karie shook her head. "Not Kasan, I know that. And not Cinda either. I don't know about the others."

"Well, _who _then?"

"Stacey, apparently. Stacey Magenta. And Malina Parr. At least they claim that." Karie shrugged.

Thorben winced, that. "Stacey? Are you telling me Shira's been having best pal conversations with _Stacey_? That girl is dumber than her cleaning droid!"

"Stars!" Wedge muttered, the truth finally dawning to him. "This has been brewing for a long time already, hasn't it?"

Thorben nodded thoughtfully. "You know, you're damned right."

"What are you saying?" Karie enquired, eyes widening. "You think this is a _set up_?"

"I dunno," Wedge muttered. "But it sure looks like it from where I'm standing." He turned on a heel and started for the exit.

"Where are you going?" Keir Santage called after him, voicing the others.

Wedge turned again. "I'm going to Cracken to tell him all I know. It ain't much, but they're going to need all the information they can get. And it's about time everybody who still thinks Luke is a trustworthy guy started opening their mouths!"

With a pointed glower he left, leaving the rest of the Rogues to silently stare at each other.

. . .

Mara was on shift whan Lando Calrissian returned in a modified Y-wing together with Tycho Celchu, from whatever undertaking they'd been away on. That was why she couldn't avoid witnessing the blazing exchange that followed what should have been an innocent update of latest news and gossip. Not that she'd have _wanted _to avoid it. A girl had to get her entertainment somewhere.

"Hello! Anybody home? It's _Luke Skywalker_ we're talking about here!" Lando practically shouted. His eyes were blazing, and Mara halted her work to look at him in astonishment. This was a side of Lando Calrissian she hadn't seen. Her opinion of him inexplicably shot up several notches.

Lando continued. "This is the guy who stood up to Darth fracking Vader – man on man! Who in here would have the courage to do that? Perhaps a handful, yes. But I can tell you all that I stick to that handful, and I stick to Luke. Maybe I've only known him for a few months, but during those months I've been stuck between a rock and a hardplace with him often enough to know I can count on him – anytime, anyplace, the end!"

A Twi'lek mechanic snorted. "You're entitled to your opinion. But I say; he threw that grenade on his girlfriend. Until someone explains why, I say the man's crazy. And that's not all; he's dangerous too." Many others nodded their consent. Among them Mara reconized both Stubb and pretty boy Billie Eriks. Billie, of course, would nod to anything, just for a chance to look serious and responsible and exercise his smoldering frown.

Lando gritted his teeth. "Yeah, Luke's bloody dangerous, he really is. Those guys on the Death Star learned it the hard way and so have a damned lot of other Imperials during the past four years! What I don't get is why _you_'re complaining about it, since he's saved your big fat mechanic's ass about a hundred times."

"Nobody diminishes what Skywalker has done for the Alliance," another man retorted. "But he's gone Jedi since, and Jedi are wizards. They can't be trusted. They stick out for themselves."

Tycho let out a short, sharp laugh. "As you might have noticed, Luke's probably the only Jedi left in the galaxy. That makes his exclusive club of colleagues a little limited, don't you think?"

Mara decided she had heard enough and started to collect her things; a dinner break seemed like a very attractive idea, the situation taken into account. She took her small bag and headed for the hanagar exit but she didn't get far. "Jade!"

Turning around, she couldn't spot who had called, but now she sure had everyone's attention. Lando's intent stare awoke uncanny memories and she wondered how many of those present were thinking of the rumors about her and Skywalker. But so far, Calrissian was probably happily unaware of that particular aspect of the situation.

And she didn't care, she reminded herself. Settling into her sabacc face, she lifted her chin a fraction. "Yes?"

For a moment no one spoke and Mara got the impression that whoever had called, had done so a bit too spontanously. Then Aften, a fellow mechanic, spoke up. "Mara, you came here with Skywalker – and you always speak your mind. What's your take on him?"

Fortunately, her orders were clear on this. Mara let the silence drag out as she regarded Aften long enough for the woman to look away, then sliding on to some of the others in turn. "You're asking me?" she drawled. "Who's been here for two months? About a guy you've known for four years? That says plenty about you, really, but nothing about Skywalker." With a shrug she adjusted the bag over her shoulder, then walked way.

She was halfway there when she heard Calrissian call, "Mara!"

Stopping, she saw the gambler and Celchu sprinting her way. She kept her guard, but waited for them to catch up with her and before she had time to figure out what might happen, Lando threw his arms around her and hugged her fiercely. "You're a beautiful woman, do you know that, Mara Jade?" he breathed.

As he pushed her away again, Mara realized she was entirely forgiven. She didn't know if she should be irritated or pleased. She had to fight to maintain her facade, but realized from the look on Celchu's face that she didn't succeed completely. "I didn't do anything," she protested lamely.

Lando's grinned. "Exactly! And with perfect timing too!"

Mara suppressed an exasperated sigh. The muttering about Skywalker and herself would wipe that happy smile from Calrissian's face soon enough. She only had to wait. But Celchu was smiling sympathetically too. "Have you been to see Deena yet?"

Mara dropped her jaw. "Deena?" _What the hell is he talking about? _For an instant her defenses kicked in and she glared suspiciously at the handsome Alderanian. "She's out on mission. Why the hell would I have seen her?"

Tycho's smile widened. "Because she returned with Wedge yesterday. And Hobbie and Wes too. They needed a bit of patching up, most of them, hence the medbay, and their arrival has been a bit of a secret." He shrugged. "You know Intel – that's why Dee hasn't been allowed to contact anyone yet."

Lando grinned, throwing his arm around his friends shoulder. "But Tycho has his channels."

Tycho shrugged again. "Yeah, well, direct line to Wedge helps a bit. Not that I know what they've been up to, but I suppose we at least can go to visit them. It's not like they're locked up or anything." He glanced to Mara. "Are you coming too?"

Mara, who'd been standing as if struck by the lightening, finally regained her ability to speak. "You bet!" She suddenly wanted to dance, to shout, to sing - _dammit _– and while she managed to suppress that by some overhuman effort, she couldn't stop a stupid smile from cracking her composure completely. "You bet!"

. . .

Mon Mothma looked around, meeting the eyes of everyone present. "I've called this meeting specifically to discuss recent developments in our inquiry into the events of the Aderon mission, and it looks like things have worsened. Commander Antilles and his crew have just returned from a mission that clearly was sabotaged. General Cracken."

The Intel Chief rose. "On this mission, Commander Antilles was carrying portable gravity convertors – modified DK-91's, intended to knock out gravity for everyone except our team, which would be equipped with magnetic soles. These converters performed correctly in multiple test runs but did not function during the action portion of the mission. Having investigated the remaining convertors, our technicians have confirmed the devices were sabotaged."

Chilled murmurs raced around the conference table.

"A foreign program was uploaded," Cracken continued, "which overrode the converters to deactivate a critical projection component for the specific period of time during which the escape attempt was scheduled, so the sabotage could have happened already before the team left _Home One_." He looked around pointedly. "Very few knew about the convertors. General Madine did, as did the assistant tactical officer and Commander Antilles, of course. His team didn't learn about them before they were away on the mission but technically, one of them _could_ have performed the sabotage en route. Then we have the two technicians who modified the converters, although they did not know when or how those convertors were to be used. Finally, we have two other persons external to the mission." He paused.

Gelsk grimaced. "Let me guess – Skywalker is one of them."

Cracken's eyes went to him. "And you suspect this because…?"

The Admiral shrugged. "Antilles and Skywalker always team up."

"Exactly," Cracken smiled. "Which is why we can with reasonable likelihood assume that Commander Brie knew too. She was the one who inspired Skywalker with the idea about the gravity convertors – which he then suggested to Captain Antilles."

Gelsk's face tightened but he didn't protest. Leia noted that the admiral had made a brave effort of impartiality the past days, and even omitted sour comments when Luke had run off, but everyone knew well who he still supported.

"The big difference between those two now seems to be that the one has run off while the other is still here," Takapaju remarked, unfazed. The Chief of Staff, for his part, had not held back his opinion of Luke's latest escapade and Leia was still arguing with herself who she most wanted to punch – Takapaju or Luke_. Of all stupid moments when he could do that, why_ now_?_ And Han had been up to his neck in the whole harebrained stunt – without telling her. Leia had almost bitten his head off when she'd learned.

"The techs could have leaked," Menja Palvoja pointed out. "Even though they didn't know what the mission was for, they could have revealed enough to make the convertors a target for a spy under cover."

Cracken nodded. "We have considered that too. And it appears that three days before the launch of Operation Sheep Skin there was a static interruption of the security system in the area where the gravity convertors were kept. The malfunction occurred at ten fifty standars hours and continued for around two minutes. Needless to say, this provided the saboteur the opportunity to act."

"Particularly if he also stood behind the interruption," Ral'Rai Muvunc muttered.

"Or she," Palvoja corrected mildly.

"Have you checked alibis?" Leia asked.

The Intel Chief nodded. "We're working on that now. Namely for Commanders Brie and Skywalker. So far there's no indication one way or the other." He shrugged. "But it's a lengthy process. We have to check the security cams of the entire ship and not only that hour but the time around too. There are many places they could have been where there are no cams at all. We therefore also have to check were they were spotted last time. And I still have to point out that even if we find out who could have been in the room in question at that time, we still have no proof that he or she has been there."

"Speaking of alibis, what about the fire on level two?" Madine asked. "Anything new there?"

Cracken stroked his chin. "Well, there's Skywalker's Artoo unit…"

Leia leaned forward in expectation. Luke had told her what Artoo had told him – but that wasn't the same as getting it confirmed from Intel. And Artoo still hadn't come out of his comatosis. "A droid?" Takapaju frowned. "Why?"

"Well," Cracken explained. "the droid disappeared the day before Operation Sheep Skin and was found days later – completely shot to hell. The interesting thing is that according to its counterpart See Threepio, belonging to Princess Leia, and in her estimation a unit that is fully functional and trustworthy…" he glanced at Leia who nooded with a little sigh. "According to Threepio, this Artoo unit had of its own volition started an investigation of the fire and come to some interesting conclusions."

He paused to sift through his pile of datapad before pulling up one. "As you might remember, the confusing thing about the fire has been the many different malfunctions; a methane leak, failing detectors, malfunctioning alarms and doors, faulty security… They can all be tracked but they have also all started on different occasions which has made it impossible to determine a common factor. But following the suggestion from Artoo Detoo, we've looked a layer deeper – and can now prove that all the malfunctions were executed by droids."

Madine let out a whistle and Gelsk looked almost exhilarated. "Someone reprogrammed droids to do the sabotage for him. That's… inspired."

Cracken smiled back. "From a professional point of view it really is. Unfortunately for us, whoever was behind it knew their stuff. The droids even memory-wiped themselves afterwards and we have very little to go on."

Leia glanced around, knowing what everyone was thinking. Luke was a skilled technician – and always followed by his own droid. He could even have made Artoo reprogram the other droids – and thus would have needed to wipe out the evidence from the astromech.

Ackbar, always the strategist, was the first aboard that train of thought and was already disembarking. "If Skywalker is guilty, he obviously needed to memory-wipe his own droid. But why do it so blatantly, then? Why bring anyone's attention to it? He had every opportunity to do it quietly."

The question hung in the air but before anyone had time to speak the door swooshed open and Deena Shan burst through, a helpess aide on her heels. "Chief Mothma! Admirals! Generals!" her clear voice cut through. "I understand that Commander Skywalker is accused of terrible things. Wedge – uh, Commander Antilles, told me that Luke was one of the few who knew about the modified gravity convertors and might be suspected for having tampered with them. But Luke would never do such a thing." She nodded with earnest, blue eyes looking straight at them in turn.

Gelsk suppressed a foul face and opened his mouth. Then he closed it again, perhaps fearing he'd break Mon Mothma's demands of civil behaviour with his comments.

Mon, always the diplomat, gazed kindly at the girl. "Thank you, Lieutenant Shan. Your concern for Commander Skywalker is commendable but I assure you that the only charge he's under is leaving whilst grounded. We are still investigating what happened on Thenax V. I trust you're recovering well?"

"Oh, good. Yeah. Thanks." Deena looked visibly relieved.

"It's not long since you left the medbay last time, is it? You got hurt in the fire the other week?" Mon Mothma continued.

Deena laughed. "No it's pretty corny, really. I'd just left the medbay to go on the mission – only to hop straight back when I returned. I might as well get myself a punch-ticket."

Mothma smiled. "Well, Lieutenant, we wish you a quick recovery and…"

"Hey, I still didn't say why I came," Deena burst out, impatience evident in her voice. "I think I know why Luke, uh, Commander Skywalker lost contact with the Force."

Thus far Deena had only collected irritated or, at best, indulgent glances from those present. Now she got everybody's undivided attention.

"We're all ears, Lieutenant," Ackbar assured her.

"Well," Deena begun. "When I was a child on Etti IV we didn't have much fancy around, but we had one thing that was special and probably the finest in the galaxy, and that was Sabodor's Pet Shop. And that was a mighty fancy thing too. Whatever strange creature you wanted, Sabodor would be the place to go, so people came there from all over the galaxy. They were always shipping in something new so I used to hang around as a kid and just gawk and read the signscreens. And I remember that once they got this weird furry lizard, nothing special to look at and not capable of anything special either – at least it seemed so to me. And because I'd been running at Sabodor's since I was a toddler and knew him very well I once asked him what it was, and why nobody was buying it. And he tapped my head and told me that it was a creature that anyone who had gotten into trouble with the Jedi would have given his right arm to have. He told me it took the power from the Jedi. And then he said actually, he didn't mind that anyone wasn't buying it because even with the Jedi all dead, there were others who had the same powers and who were worse anyway, and those were the Dark Lords of the Sith. And I think that was why I remember that lizard. I can still recall how that old rakririan leaned in and whispered those words: 'the Dark Lords of the Sith'!" Deenas voice lowered to a hissy whisper and she looked expectantly at the High Council.

A confused silence followed, then Leia leaned forward. "Let me get this clear. Are you claiming there's some sort of lizard that can neutralize the Force somehow?"

Deena nodded eagerly. "That's what he told me!"

"And you think this…Sabodor, was reliable?" Riekaan inquired, eyebrows raised.

"Of course. His petshop was considered the best. Hell, it still is, look it up in the databanks!"

The council members exchanged glances. "And how would a lizard like that work?" Leia wondered. "Would it do something with the Force. Send out some anti- …" she halted, searching for words. "Anti-Force pheromones or something..."

"No idea," Deena told her. "I think the Force is weird enough when Luke tells about it. I don't think I'd understand how that lizard worked even if someone explained it to me."

"Well…" Mon begun.

"Salami!" Deena cried triumphantly, slapping her hand on the conference table.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Isalami, something. Isamaliri. Ysmanaliri. That's what it was called. Or something like that. I remember now."

Mon looked strangely at loss, her thirty-four years experience of diplomacy not availing her in the slightest. "I'm afraid I've never heard of it."

Deena shrugged. "Well, that's not strange, is it? I mean, if it turns off their Force powers somehow, I'm sure the Old Jedi did their best to get rid of the fuzzballs. And Vader would have the same agenda as them for once, right? That makes a helluvalot years to hush it up."

Her point wasn't exactly politically correct but none present could deny the logic. Assuming, naturally, there was any such thing as a Force-short-circuiting furry lizard. The esteemed members of the High Council traded hapless glances, most of them frantically trying to think of what would get Deena out of the room fastest.

Leia collected herself. "Thank you Deena. This was… very unique information. We'll see what we can make out of it."

The blonde girl beamed towards her. "You're welcome, Princess! And you know – I _told_ him to stay out of trouble while I was away!"

. . .

For the umpteenth time Han Solo found himself staring at Artoo Detoo. The astromech still squatted in a corner of his quarters, the little bluelight still on, sometimes breaking out into whistles and flutings before falling silent again. Somehow for the Corellian, it had become vital that the droid come back to itself. If it did, then everything would sort itself out, he was sure of it.

Han got to his feet and knelt beside the droid, for the umpteenth time opening its operation panel to stare at the circuits… only to close it again. If he broke something… The kid would never…

He remembered Luke's face when he'd delivered the news. That already pale, devastated face, paling even further…

How did you pray for a droid? What did you pray for? That the Force was strong in it? Could the Force even hear you anyway?

"C'mon pal," Han muttered. "Give me a sign here."

But Artoo was silent and Han sighed, rising again.

The doorcom buzzed.

"C'min," Han growled.

"I say, Captain Solo. Any news yet?"

Goldenrod again, dammit. Why hadn't whoever had done this to Artoo picked the professor instead? Han had actually said so to Leia and she had nearly kicked him out of bed, lecturing him that Threepio was as loyal as any human friend and considerably better-manned than at least one man she could name off the top of her head. Well, Han hadn't questioned _that_… Solo rolled his eyes and walked towards the fresher. "No."

"Oh dear, oh dear." Threepio rocked worriedly from one foot to the other. "And the situation out there is worse than ever. Now Master Calrissian is back too and making a ruckus."

Han peeked out from the fresher – not having bothered to close the door. "What? Lando? Is he back?"

"Indeed he is sir, he's at the medbay now."

"The medbay? He got hurt on the mission?"

"Not at all, Captain Solo, he came back safe and sound."

Kriff that droid. You needed a fracking black hole to suck relevant information out of him. "Then why is he at the medbay?"

"Oh. Well, you see, he got mad. First at a man who claimed that Master Luke was in league with Vader and then he lost his head when another one was claiming that Miss Mara had been sleeping with Master Luke behind Miss Shira's back. And then they all jumbled together in a terrible mess. Five of them ended up in the medbay, including Master Lando. If you take my meaning, sir, this is all getting very confusing."

Han went back to his business, dropping his forehead to rest against the cold wall. He closed his eyes. "You don't say."

"Indeed, sir. I pride myself on my thorough understanding of human behaviour, but it occasionally exceeds the capacity of my circuits."

"Tweet bwuiidauitt."

"Now, don't you call me delusional, you silly little tinbox. I am programmed to understand those things. You wouldn't even know where to start when it comes to human relations."

Han' s eyes fluttered open. _What the heck…?_

He tumbled out, pants still open. The little astromech droid's dome turned around to meet him and it let out a series of chirps and whistles.

"Of course it's not common behaviour," Threepeo retorted angrily. "Most humans close the 'fresher door after them and then dress properly again before coming out. It's only Captain Solo who sometimes… Artoo?…"

Solo had never thought he'd kiss a droid. But Artoo turned out to be the exception. And just for good measure, Threepio.

. . .

They spoke together a long time, former Master and apprentice. Chewie retreated to the _Falcon_ and took up one of the tinkering repair jobs that the old freighter had in eternal supply; having never shared much with Kenobi, speaking to his ghost seemed a bit too surreal for the earth-bound Wookiee. So he buried himself in his own work, cursing the _Falcon_'s completely haphazard wiring and the insects that the lights of the ship were attracting. At some point he peeked out and blinked in surprise. Wasn't that _two_ blue-glowing shaped there with Luke now; one tall, taller than Luke even in after-life, the other diminutive and leaning on his stick? Chewbacca shook his head and disappared back into the ship.

It was early morning when he finally heard the steps of booted feet, slow and tired, coming up the landing ramp. Chewie looked up and saw Luke standing there, pale and hollow-eyed but collected. Different, somehow. A man – not a boy anymore.

"All right, Chewie. Time to leave."

Luke seated himself heavily in the pilots chair but noted to his gratitude that Chewie took the launch routines on himself, leaving Luke to watch as the _Falcon_ lifted on her repulsors and floated a moment in the air, branches scratching her hull at every twitch. Then with a roar, the sublight engines kicked on and the battered freighter shot off to space.

A burden lifted? Maybe. And a new one gained. He couldn't run anymore. Wouldn't. His return to the Alliance to convince them to take him back would be the easy part. He gave a short, half-choked laugh and ran an achy hand through his hair.

Chewie rumbled softly to the human beside him as he pushed the yoke to the hyperdrive. He turned to the young man by his side, laying a heavy arm on his shoulders.

Luke couldn't hold back anymore. Didn't even try. He buried his head deep into the warm, brown fur of the Wookiee - and cried.

T.B.C.


	27. Chapter 27

**Quagmire - Chapter 27**

**The Return of the Jedi**

Leia. Leia was his sister.

Luke had thought that things were strange and complicated and it turned that out they weren't that at all. On the contrary, they were exactly as they should be! He had _always_ known, somewhere, deep down it was like this; he recognized the feeling; only he hadn't had the faith to believe it. But now that he did – how wonderful, simple, how _easy_ it was!

The night before, Chewie had dumped him in a bunk, weary and spent, but after a full nights sleep, the knowledge and perspective he'd gained showed him the world in a quite different, brighter light.

When should he tell Leia? When he got back? Straight away? Hell, he'd run straight off the ramp and find her and – _wait_.

He had more to tell than good news. And Leia would still have all her earlier obligations. He would not add another burden to her load now; he would wait until it felt right_._ He would not let strict reason lead him this time; he would know when the time was right.

Luke took a deep breath, feeling the Force flow through him. It was so very simple, really. The Force was… everywhere. He just had to relax. Trust. That was the hard part, of course.

The realization brought a smile to his lips. Had Obi Wan had it the same way? He'd been young once. Reckless, he'd hinted, maybe passionate too. Yes, Luke could well imagine Obi Wan as passionate young man once; tempered probably, but still zealous and heartfelt.

For a thousand generations Jedi had fought these same battles, failed, tried again. Moaned under their masters' sinister 'there's no try.' They were gone now, but they had been there – he wasn't alone.

Chewie barked a question and Luke leaned back in his seat. "Oh, I guess I was just… feeling good for once." At that moment he couldn't have wiped the smile from his face even if he'd tried.

. . .

The past days, the Alliance High Council had met briefly twice a day to be sure they all had the latest updates on the Aderon inquiry. As usual, everybody had their eyes glued on Airen Cracken, who as Supreme Commander of Intelligence had jurisdiction over the investigations.

"Well," the weathered general began, selecting a datapad from the stack in front of him. "I could start with informing you that Captain Antilles reported in yesterday and has provided an extensive account of his interactions and observations of the past weeks before going on mission."

"Let me guess," Gelsk grumbled. "Commander Skywalker is a saint and Commander Brie is one TIE short of a Star Destroyer."

"That is of course a slight simplification, Admiral," Cracken responded mildly, "but yes, the summary would end up reading pretty much like that."

"I beg your pardon, but it's hardly surprising that Captain Antilles hurries to share his opinions so quickly after he's unwillingly put his best friend's head on the block as one of the two main suspects for sabotage," Takapaju growled.

Cracken nodded. "That's a point. But I must correct you. We cannot say that Skywalker is one of two main suspects for sabotage – for the gravity convertors perhaps, but even there, we cannot allow ourself to limit us to two suspects. As for the arson…" He slid another datapad from the center of his stack. "We've determined that there is one single malfunction that could not have been instigated by droids. The sensors that should have alarmed about the heightened amount of methane are located in the B-deck environmental control room. The area is constantly manned and no droids are allowed into the room in question. We must therefore conclude that the sensors must have been manually overridden."

His words started a murmur in the room but the general held up his hand, grave-faced. "Before anyone gets too excited, you should know that in addition to the twelve technicians on duty in the possible timeframe, forty colleagues and friends threw a surprise sixtieth birthday party for one of the maintenance techs."

Leia sank back in frustration and she was anything but alone. "While on duty?" Takapaju moaned.

Cracken shrugged. "Well, it's not like the Alliance generally stands on ceremony. This far, we've never been forced to."

"So, the saboteur could have been one of the guests?" Leia asked. If they could find any indication that pointed more towards one than the other, just one…

"We believe that's likely," Cracken answered, "Actually, in retrospect, this party seems so convenient for our saboteur that we immediately started to investigate who arranged it. It turned out that four people were eager to give each other the credits for it." He glanced back to his datapad. "Malina Parr, Tornet Bom'gar, Stacey Magenta and Seimaly Nikos."

Leia straightened, as did everyone else, recognizing two of the names all too well. "Parr and Magenta!" Rieekaan exclaimed. "But that's…"

"Two of Commander Brie's main confidants when it comes to her accusations against Commander Skywalker," Cracken affirmed. "That struck us too. And digging deeper, it turned out that Commander Brie had been present when the idea for the party came up."

The silence was complete for long moments, then Leia breathed, "And did she participate in the party?"

"She did."

"Well, I'll be damned," Gelsk muttered, leaning back in his chair.

"That's still no proof," Takapaju barked. "No proof at all!"

Gelsk rubbed his neck. "No, but it doesn't look good." He shook his head slowly. "Not good at all…"

"What about Skywalker?" Takapaju demanded. "Didn't he pop by that party too? Or do we have actual proof that he _didn't_?"

"There's no need to muddy the water further," Madine growled. "We –" He broke off as Cracken's com sounded and the Intel Chef lifted his hand, taking the call in his earpiece. Whatever the message was, it made him jump. "What? When? I'll be there in a minute." Cracken broke the contact and looekd at Mothma. "Excuse me, ma'am. We might have a breakthrough - but I need to…"

Mon Mothma inclined her head. "Of course, General." Cracken swept his bundle of datapads and flimsi under his arm and left the room running.

Mothma waited until the door had closed behind him before looked up again, solemnly meeting the eyes of all present. "We can hope the general will return with important new information. Still, at the moment we must conclude that we still know very little. Even if we assume that the arson and and the sabotaged convertors are linked we…" Another com buzzed, this time her own, and she opened it. "Yes?"

"Chief Mothma? The _Millenium Falcon_ is requesting permission to land. The reported crew is the Wookiee Chewbacca and Jedi Luke Skywalker."

Gelsk and Takapaju looked surprised but most others broke into heartfelt smiles. "I _knew_ he wasn't running," Leia exclaimed, eyes shining.

"_Jedi_ Luke Skywalker," Riekaan repeated, part wondering, part delighted and Ackbar chuckled quietly.

Madine rubbed his hands. "One of the prime suspects is returning to the scene of the crime. Now this is getting _really_ interesting!"

. . .

The _Falcon_ had been guided to one of the smaller hangars, which was nonetheless still large enough to hold some hundred people. When Mara arrived, drawn by the rumor that blazed through the ship at point-three past lightspeed, a crowd had already gathered and a squadron of soldiers was busy securing the ship. Partly elbowing, partly slipping in between, she worked her way to first line. The landing ramp of the _Falcon_ remained up and Mara threw a glance towards the cockpit. She could see Chewbacca, seated comfortably in his co-pilot's chair and leaning his arms behind his head, like was he waiting for a show to start. Right beneath the cockpit module smoldered Solo, gesturing heatedly, but the big Wookiee only shook his furry head and howled in response; the sound, fortunately, couldn't penetrate the thick transparisteel. The Wookiee's body language was clear, though – he kicked his feet up on the console, obviously planning on staying where he was.

The DO, Lieutenant Steel, switched off his com in frustration, turning to the captain in command of the squadron. "They're not answering."

"Very well, Lieutenent." Captain Donnet considered the situation for a moment. "Call for another squad to keep the curious at a distance."

"But Captain, they're not civilians, you can just order them to leave…"

Donnet arched his eyebrows and the DO winced. "I mean, yes, sir."

. . .

The deadlock in the hangar – one of Donnet's soldiers had suggested laser-torching the ramp open, and just barely ducked the hydrospanner Solo swung at his head – gave High Command good time to "move their meeting," as Mon put it, and position themselves at the window of the hangar's command office. Belatedly, Cracken came running into the room. "You won't believe what… Oh!" He broke off and stepped closer, taking in the situation. "Has he come out yet?"

"Not yet," Mon replied, eyes on the battered freighter. "Neither him nor our Wookiee friend."

Cracken bent closer, his words intended for her ears alone. "News. Finally."

Mon turned her head to meet his eyes. "From the investigation?"

Cracken shook his head. "Partly. According to holocams Skywalker was in Greenhouse Three in the time period when the system interruption around the convertors took place… but as a Jedi we should assume that he might be able to fool a holocam if he wanted to."

Mon frowned, uncertain, but Airen Cracken was flat-out beaming now. "What we have is better. Skywalker's Artoo unit." He grinned and shook his head.

"What about it?"

"Turns out that little devil is even smarter than I originally gave it credit for. It actually built itself a redundant emergency motivator large enough to store a complete backup file. How it managed to activate the reboot cycle I doubt we'll ever know, but that's exactly what it has been doing the past days. It just finished a full memory restoration. And guess what – it also managed to take a holovid snippet of its attacker."

"Brie?"

Cracken nodded.

Mon let out her breath in a soft sigh. "All this time… Well, at least we can clear Commander Skywalker now."

"I'll give orders…" Cracken broke off as Mothma laid her hand on his arm.

"Wait," she murmured, her eyes back on the ship. "He doesn't know yet. No one does. But he's come back, and would he do that without a plan? Shouldn't we give him a chance to do whatever he's intending?"

"Give him chance? While a whole detainment squad is pointing their guns at him?" Cracken pointed out incredulously.

An uncharacteristic expression was worming its way onto Mon's face and she flashed her Intel Commander an openly mischievous smirk. "Well, they _are_ set for stun, aren't they?"

Cracken was still gaping at Mothma when Ackbar spoke up. "Shouldn't we give orders to clear the area?"

Mothma cocked her eyebrows, confident now. "If Commander Skywalker was interested in a discreet arrival, wouldn't he have come out immediately?" She shook her head. "No. Look at those closed hatches. What is he waiting for if not for an audience? And think of his announcement. He could have returned any way he wanted – but he comes in plain daylight, annoucing his arrival despite knowing we'll most likely arrest him. Luke Skywalker is not dumb and he's not naïve. I trust he has a plan."

At first, Leia stared at the Commander in Chief with the same shock as everyone else, but something in her tingled at Mon's words. Luke had a way of making point-blank dramatic entrances work to his advantage, Jabba's Palace being the most recent case in point. Only back then, Leia had been aware of the plan. Of course she had also screwed up her own part in it, but Luke had in the end managed to save them all despite that. Why doubt him now?

Her heart reached out towards her friend, as if she could touch with him through durasteel walls and hulls, and her fear started to settle. She trusted him. Always had. She sent him a loving, comforting thought, and to her surprise, she felt him answer. A soft whisper only, like a gentle fingerstroke against her chin, his voice in her mind, _Leia_!

Her hand shot up, fingers touching nothing but her own skin, but a wild smile broke on her face, her lips forming his name in quiet response, just like they had months ago in Bespin when he first spoke in her mind. _Luke_!

"So you don't think we should do anything?" Rieekan asked, sounding as baffled as Leia had been. "How will that end?"

"Looks like we'll find out, General," Mothma told him, gesturing down at the hangar. "And if you ask me, it's just about to start."

The landing ramp of the _Millenium Falcon_ had descended.

. . .

After fifteen minutes' stalemate - Solo had been severely rebuked for the hydrospanner incident and removed from the frontline by two soldiers - the landing ramp lowered and Luke Skywalker walked calmly down it. The crowd hushed to expectant silence and even Solo's loud complaints from somewhere towards the rear died out. Mara noted that Skywalker was clad in the same black outfit he'd worn at Jabba's Palace. His hands were crossed before him and the hood shaded his face but as he stopped before the Captain he lifted his hands to lower it, revealing a collected, almost serene expression.

His mien was so peaceful that the soldiers glanced to their captain for confirmation, a few of them lowering their weapons somewhat. Captain Donnet, however, held himself sharp enough to satisfy an Imperial drill sergeant. He cleared his throat. "Commander Skywalker. I'm afraid I'll have to arrest you."

A smile tugged the corner Skywalker's mouth. "Not exactly the welcome I hoped for, but I can't say I'm surprised. Just what does this arrest-thing entail?"

Donnet looked regretful but answered briskly, "That means that you're to be disarmed and taken into custody."

Skywalker shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't accept that, Captain. You'd better speak to your superior about those orders. Tell him I want to meet Alliance High Command as soon as possible to get my case settled. And disarmament will not be in question. I carry no other weapon than my lightsaber, which is a Jedi's tool and symbol, not an offensive weapon."

Donnet blinked. Skywalker's voice was impeccably polite, low-modulated, and nonetheless carried adamantly over the entire hangar. Donnet cleared his throat again, kicking in an extra decibel or two. "I must point out that you're not in a position to dictate the conditions, Commander Skywalker. However, I'll show you the courtesy of taking your weapon into my personal keeping, and if you wish I'll hand it directly to High Command. I understand that this weapon means a lot to you."

Luke shook his head again. "I appreciate it Captain, but you misunderstand the situation. I am in such a position, and it is time for you, Alliance Command and everybody else to realize what you're dealing with. I am _not_ going to hand my lightsaber over, not to you, nor anybody else. And from now on, it's 'Jedi Skywalker,' unless we're on private terms."

A murmur rose from the by-standers, and Mara could sense the anticipation spread in the hall. She glanced around her. Solo must still be held back by the soldiers, at least she couldn't see him in the now-large crowd. And more people kept pouring in. The squad that was assigned to keep them at bay was hopelessly undermanned, but so far, nobody had tried to run them over. A knot of Rogues had formed in the front ranks, she noted, and the backup squadron Donnel had called in a few minutes ago left three soldiers close to them to discourage split loyalties from making more trouble.

Up one level, standing in the command office, Mara could distinguish Mothma, Reikaan, Princess Leia og Ackbar behind the transparisteel windows. She wondered what was going on in the head of Leia Organa, seeing her close friend in this position.

In contrast to the calm Jedi before him, Captain Donnet was clearly feeling all the eyes watching his every move. He cleared his throat again and Mara wondered dryly if he'd ever manage to cough up the womp rat that appeared to have crawled down it. "I'm very sorry, Jedi Skywalker," he corrected, "but I can under no circumstances allow you to keep your weapon."

Skywalker sighed. "Alright, Captain."

The Captain sighed with relief and extended his hand.

Skywalker smiled faintly and shook his head. "You'll have to take it."

Donnet stiffened. "I beg your pardon?"

The Jedi grinned. "You heard me."

Donnet scowled for a few seconds, clearly on the edge of his patience now, then gestured two of his nearst men onwards. "Disarm him."

.

Han had finally managed to slip away from the two soldiers Donnet had put on him and work his way back to the _Falcon_ again. Chaos take Luke! To bring her straight into a thing like this – and besides – what was kid thinking anyway? If he started a fight someone would get hurt - and that sure as hell wouldn't win him any points. Han stifled a curse as he scanned the _Falcon_'s hull for the umpteenth time. At least it looked like the kid had been gentle with her, he could see no scratches, well, no _new_ scratches anyway. But if…

"Psst! Han!"

Solo jumped and looked around but couldn't figure out who'd called for him. There were people everywhere around but they all were staring as one towards Luke. Than he heard a muted growl and realized it came from above.

True enough. As Han stepped two steps back and tilted his neck almost out of joint, he finally spotted Chewie and Lando on the hull of the Falcon over him, the former lowering a spare length of power cable to him. Without second thought, Han grabbed the rope and was immediately hawled through the air, helping hands pulling him the last part. "What the hell is going on?" he hissed even as he was crawling up. "Why didn't you come out earlier, you stupid fuzzball? And Lando – how did you get mixed up in this nest of gundarks?" Behind the Wookiee, on the top of the ship, a still-open hatch confirmed his suspicion that Chewie had left the ship using the top hatch.

"I'm _not_ involved," Lando replied, grinning. "At least not more than you are. But Chewie's told me to just sit down and relax. Luke has a plan."

"So what else is new?" Han growled. "Luke _always_ has a plan. I remember one of them involved walking straight into an Imperial Detention Center."

"And look how that worked out," Lando chuckled. "You rescued the love of your life. Let's see what he's got in mind today."

.

Mara followed closely as two soldiers stepped forward and approached the Jedi, who stood quietly and watched them with an air of near indifference. He didn't move until they were nearly within reach of him. Then, from standstill, he made a backflip that brought him almost seven meters away and also cleared him from the hull of the _Falcon_. He flicked his hand and the ship ramp hissed shut. The spectators buzzed. Skywalker flashed a grin. "Just to make it clear that I won't be running anywhere."

Donnet blinked but found his speech again. "I didn't believe you would, Commander. After all, you did return of your own initiative. All the same, I have my orders." He glanced at his two men, who had paused to look uncertainly at him, and added sternly, "What the hells are you two waiting for?"

The soliders pulled themselves together and approached Skywalker again. The Jedi stood calmly waiting for them, hands crossed peacefully before him, and not until the soliders were again close enough to reach out for him did he act. In a blur of motion he grabbed the first hand raised, yanked it towards himself and simultaneously stepped in behind the man. An arm twist and a sidekick floored the soldier – Luke stepped over him and launched on the second soldier from the side before anyone could blink. The next second the man had joined his comrade on the floor.

It was basic close combat technics, Mara recognized, nothing more, but performed with a speed that probably made most save her experienced eyes lose track. Skywalker must have used the Force to accelerate his muscles to such a degree, and she wondered uneasily if even her own fine-honed reflexes could match that. She had better take this as a warning.

Now free of his opponents, Skywalker stepped to the side and stilled again, his cape seeming to smooth magically as he did, once again the picture of tranquility. He lifted his right hand, flicking his fingers at the two men on the floor – and the next second they were hauled across along the deck by their feet, like an invisible hand had grabbed their ankles. They skidded to a halt in front of the rest of their squad and scrambled to their feet, unharmed but visibly shocked.

Donnet stood a second flummoxed, just like everybody else, then he hurried to check that his two men were fine. When they noddingly confirmed, he ordered four new men in with renewed determination, "Herning, Penkala, Early and Tonberg. Take him!"

The men charged from two sides, weapons ready but clearly not intending to use them unless their opponent attacked first. Again, Skywalker waited until they were close, his crushing calm in itself almost an insult. He nodded in recognition at one of the soldiers, sending his younger and obviously more nervous sideman an apologizing smile. "Hello Matt. Hi Arni. Sorry about the fuss. I can't guarantee you won't get some bluemarks from this."

None of the soldiers dared an answer, but then Skywalker didn't leave them much time to reconsider. Instead, he again broke out from standstill to a blaze of speed, this time a leap that brought him behind those he's spoken to, and thus out of reach for the two other attackers. A yank with an arm and a sweep of foot brought the first ones down and a simple motion with his hand made the others lose their footing, tipping in a mess on the deck. There they sprawled, wriggling on their backs and inexplicably unable to get back to their feet, the only indication Skwalker had anything to do with that being the palm he held parallel to the floor. The Jedi himself stepped free of his opponents, like they were so much seaweed washed up on a beach, and returned to his starting position, crossing his hands peacefully.

Many of the spectators whistled and shouted encouragingly, others booed. Mara crossed her arms and leaned back against a nearby charging station. This was getting interesting. Of course, if Skywalker had been dealing with Imperials, guns would have been out already, spectators forgotten, but knowing the civility of these rebels the show was only getting started.

The third time, Donnet charged together with the rest of his squad.

Skywalker plowed six men into the ground with a Force push, knocking them into each other like dominobriks. The next three he met in the air, kicking in what seemed like three directions at once, and the rest he took as they came, hand to hand, laying them down as neatly as he had the first time. The front line of spectators began backing up as the squad got back to its feet. "Way to go Luke!" someone cried. "Pull yourself together, Donnet!" someone else shouted. A neat amount of the audience had for some reason broken into an enthusiastic round of _Rogues Rule_ – one of the cheer songs Mara had heard sung often enough in the Chaos – among other places.

Mara for her part, studied his technique with experienced eyes. Skywalker had received military training of course, and hence some hand-to-hand- training as well. Still, she was convinced that it wasn't those skills he made use of now with such perfection – this was a proof of what the Force could do for its wielder. The power flowing through Skywalker was almost palpable. It was beautiful, actually – Mara knew she was good but she could never do anything like that, not even nearly, despite all her training and combat skills. At the moment the Jedi was almost in a trance, in perfect contact with the living energy streaming through him. She could sense the flowing harmony, the fractureless stream of controlling and obeying the Force.

Captain Donnet was growling into his comlink, asking for more men who arrived almost before he had asked – Alliance Command was obviously enjoying the show.

A doubling of the force didn't seem to change the odds one whit. Skywalker continued to hold his ground, in a combination of jumps, hand-to-hand combat and strategically placed Force maneuvers. He had complete control, seeming to know and anticipate the moves of each and everyone of his opponents and moving smoothly, often even quicker than mere eye could follow. Several of the bystanders jumped into the fight, a few of them serious but most obviously just for the sport of it, looking almost elated when they were shoved to the ground or hurled away. As the fight proceeded, the Force shows became more and more dramatic; the first squad hadn't come to ten meters from him when they already got their legs swept off under them as by an invisible arm. The onlookers were getting exhilarated and _Rogues Rule_ was being drowned out by a new chant composed on the spot: _Skywalker is kicking ass, du daa du daa_.

.

"Thanks buddy," Wedge gave thumbs up to the 4PO droid who handled him a bagful of beers and climbed back to the nose of his fighter, settling himself against the canopy. "Did I miss something?" He handed Wes, Tycho and Hobbie a beer each and opened a can for himself.

"Naah," Wes drawled, eyes glued to the show taking place before him. "Nothing special. He just tipped eight men over in a domino-push and jumped a few meters into the air."

"A four point or a five point jump?" Wedge wondered, taking a sip of his can.

"Three. Definitely not more than three," Wes claimed. "Just a basic up-and-down. If it hadn't been three meters high, I'd say it was a two pointer but I give him an extra for height. Still, I'd thought he'd have some more tricks up his sleeve." Beside him, on the very tip of the X-wing's prow, Deena was squealing.

"Yeah." Wedge grinned. "Piece of ryshcate for a Jedi, isn't it? We'll have to tell him to make an effort if he wants to be taken seriously."

.

As the amount of attackers increased, Luke turned to reinforcements himself. With a Force boost he tripped a row of coolant barrels that had been lined up in the end of the hangar and sent them bouncing towards the soldiers, forcing several of them back. He was now alone with his attackers in one side of the hangar, but far enough away from the bulkhead to be able to leap and avoid comfortably. Most of the spectators had retreated to the other part of the deck and he could sense Leia somewhere close. Might as well kick in Phase Two. Luke reached out with his mind.

.

Leia jolted slightly and blinked, for a moment losing her concentration on the tussle below. Then she shook herself out of it. "Admiral Ackbar...?"

The admiral gave her a distracted look. "Yes, your Highness?"

"I think you should order a task force to draw their blasters on Skywalker."

"You… _What?_ You can't be serious?"

"Oh, I am, Admiral." Leia eyed the scene before her and added. "I also think you should give orders to clear that side of the hangar." She gestured to a large quarter of the deck, empty of ships but half full of spectators. "If it's open space, Commander Skywalker will be able to deflect the bolts safely in that direction."

Mon Mothma eyed the situation with fresh interest. "It's risky. We'll be upping the stakes quite a bit. Will he live up to it, Princess?"

Leia flashed a sudden smirk. "If the Force is with him, your honor."

Inwardly she cringed and hoped Luke was doing the right thing here.

Admiral Ackbar flapped his gills nervously but pulled out his comlink. "Captain Donnet. Order your men to set all weapons to stun and fire at will."

.

A surge went through the audience when the first squadron finally lifted their blasters, aiming them at Skywalker. Mara heard several start protesting angrily, but what happened next, happened too quickly for anybody to interfere.

At the same moment as the first men lifted their arms, Luke's lightsaber was out and in his hand. He didn't ignite it immediately, but made a huge leap, the highest yet, soaring well over all shots fired. As he landed and the soldiers continued to fire, Luke twisted to avoid the stun bolts and leaped again, combining it with several Force shoves directed either to the weapons, angling the bolts into the air or floor, or straight at the soliders, knocking them into each other amidst generous amounts of cursing. The cries of protest were quickly replaced by shouts of approval and renewed chanting. Mara recognized a children's song _Bounce Little Bunny_, only the words had been replaced with _jump little Jedi_.

Skywalker went on like that for almost a minute, but when Donnet commanded his other squadron out and started to line them into firing position, he finally ignited his lightsaber. The green blade flared to life and whipped into the path of the incoming blasts. As the number of shooters doubled, it seemed to Mara that Skywalker fell back completely into the Force – with her eyes and senses glued to him, it was like being pulled into his mind, sharing his awareness - and suddenly the amount of blasts was nothing, nothing at all. Time slowed, as did every movement he made, every shot coming against him. Even when the new squad was firing simultaneously, she realised that the shots came irregularly, time slowing enough for Luke to be able to either bat them down or dodge. With her mind Mara knew that he wouldn't be able to go on forever, but right now they didn't have to care. Dart, dart, twist, leap, dart, dart, twist… It all synchronized to a beautiful symphony of colors and sounds, the bolts coming at him and his green blade evading them, directing them into the floor, the roof or the bulkhead.

Mara blinked, a movement from an unexpected direction bringing her back to her own, usual perspective. Behind Skywalker, a blast door opened and a third squad emerged, trotting through with military precision. Their exemplary order shattered completely when Luke swiped a hand and the coolant barrels rocketed off the floor and into their formation. Most of the squadron sprinted back the way they'd come, looking remarkably more chaotic; the door shot behind them and the barrels smashed into it. Three soldiers who had remained in the hangar stood a moment unsure whether they should wait for their comrades or take their chances. One of them finally kicked the barrels away from the door and punched the release. The door opened halfway, only to zip closed again. The soldier punched a second time, the door opened halfway – and closed. The spectators cheered.

.

Madine leaned in towards Gelsk. "Tell you what. If you can't use him in Starfighter Command, I can find him a place anywhere."

"Me too," Riekaan seconded cheerfully.

Gelsk snorted without taking his eyes from the events unfolding below.

.

Mara glanced up the fighter where Rogue Squadron was now fully assembled. Deena was glued to Luke and Wes and Hobbie were busy taking bets but Wedge saw her and waved. "Hey Jade! Wanna better view? You can sit on my lap!"

"No thanks," Mara declined. "How's the betting going?"

"Not bad. They…."

A concerted gasp from the crowd cut him off. Luke had batted back a blast, not into the roof or floor this time but at a soldier who instantly collapsed at the floor. There was a stir from the crowd, some backing instantly away, some murmuring in disapproval and others exitement.

"Hey, it was only a stunbolt," Hobbie protested to no one particular. "The same stuff they've been shooting at _him_ for a long time already. It's not like he's gonna hurt anybody."

Another soldier dropped, the next man to the first – and suddenly the two squadrons were split. Several blasts hit the floor close to the third in line, driving him back and widening the distance.

Luke kept his breathing steady. He was pushing his own limits now, he knew, not only avoiding incoming fire and closing out the third squadron but also using the deflected bolts as potshots. He didn't feel tired or have problems concentrating yet, but plain reason told him he needed to wrap this up while it was still going swell. He pushed the second squadron further out in the empty part of the hangar – and sent the barrells rolling.

The soldiers scattered, and even the concentration of the first squadron was divided for a moment. Luke reached out for their weapons with the Force and with a mighty pull he managed to rip the weapons out of the hands of about half of them. A second pull disarmed the rest, except for one soldier who clung to his blaster like his life depended on it. He hung on even when he lost his footage, like a womp rat with its jaws clamped on a bone, and Luke hauled him by the blaster all the way to his feet. He paused to regard the young soldier, even younger than himself, and frowned. "Will you stop shooting at me, Private Envis?"

The soldier swallowed. "No sir, I can't. I'm sorry, sir. Orders."

Luke had to grin at the young man's earnest stubbornness. "Fair enough." He swung his blade and cut the blaster in two.

.

Ackbar turned to his fellow High Command members. "Perhaps we should ask him to stop?" he suggested at leisure. "Now he's starting to damage the equipment."

Mon nodded. "I believe young Luke has proved his point by now, wouldn't you think?"

Everyone sounded their agreement, Gelsk the last one – but even his half-sour expression had changed to reluctant respect.

.

Donnet lifted his comlink, receiving his latest orders with a nod that looked suspiciously like relief. "All right, every one, pull back! Lower your weapons!" Moments later, the soldiers were standing in line again, weapons lowered; those still conscious, that was. A few of the soldiers stepped aside to take care of their stunned comrades. The spectators booed, disappointed the show was over.

Luke lowered his lightsaber too, but didn't turn it off. Instead he stilled – and waited. The spectators, who had stirred when they realized Donnet was pulling back, stilled too. It was so quiet you could have heard if someone had dropped a flimsi.

Up in the control room, Mon Mothma leaned in to the com and when she spoke, it carried her voice over entire hangar. "Jedi Skywalker?"

Luke saluted with his lightsaber in acknowledgement.

"I believe you wanted to meet with Alliance High Command to have your case settled," Mon offered.

Luke bowed his head affirmatively.

"You timed your return well, Jedi Skywalker. You're requested to meet us in Assembly Room Number Twelve… - and you may bring your lightsaber."

. . .

Luke hadn't yet reached the assembly room when a familiar and much missed warble sounded behind him and made him spun on a heel. "_Artoo_?"

Grinning like a fool, he fell into a crouch to greet the astromech that rolled up to him, chittering fondly. "Artoo! I can't believe this! I thought I'd lost you!"

The droid let out a defiant tweet, then a shorter explanation that ended in a sad whistle. The display that Luke had added in order to understand his friend better (and without the tiring interference of Threepio) had been removed, so Luke was able to make sense of only a part of Artoo's twitter. But it was enough to warn him that it was too early to rejoice. Too much had happened the past weeks for the loose ends to be meeting smoothly. Someone would have to pay – and if it wasn't him, it would be someone else.

That thought kept him somber all the way to the assembly room. Still, upon meeting Leia's warm smile and shining eyes, his mood brightened again and all Jedi training in the world couldn't have stopped him from smiling back. Stars, he had missed her! And Force, how he wanted to scoop her into his arms and tell her everything!

But instead, Luke restrained himself again, answering the questions of High Command. He didn't give them Yoda's name - as long as his father and the Emperor lived, the fewer that knew details about his training, the better - and his premonition of something bad upcoming was rekindled when his story was accepted without further inquiries.

Therefore, Luke wasn't unprepeared three hours later, when the decisions of Alliance High Command was transmitted all over _Home One_, along with the results of the investigation. All too aware that the running holocams were dwelling on him, Luke stood motionless, willing himself to remain calm – but inside he was bleeding. He'd learned – and on some level accepted - that Shira wasn't who she'd claimed to be. He had even accepted that she, for some reason, was out to get him – but this… This was worse than he'd ever imagined.

Not surprisingly, everyone on _Home One_ who could squirm away from duty was nailed to the screens – and when the holovid that Artoo had managed to take of his attacker was played, silence fell over the ship.

In Rogue Squadron's ready room people stood united now, just like they had in the hangar, ready to defend their leader, but as the event unfolded, even Wes' cheeky comments died out. The slow realization that they'd all this time had a traitor in their midst somehow took all jesting away. Wedge stood grim, arms crossed before him. Next to him Tycho leaned against a bulkhead, jaws clamped angrily.

Shira was accused of espionage and was set under custody until a court martial could take place. Finally, Mon Mothma called the High Command to vote on their earlier decision to withdraw Commander Skywalker from the duty roster. A united AHC cleared him from suspicion and recommended him to be immediately reinstated to active duty.

Mothma turned solemnly to Luke. "This has been a trial – but a larger one is still ahead of us. We welcome you back in our lines, Jedi Skywalker. Your return kindles a hope in our hearts. With you, we again have the power of the Force on our side."

Luke shook his head. "The Force is with us all, Ma'am. Before I left, many here aired the belive that the Force was just an illusion. It's my hope that this misunderstanding has now been corrected. And while I rejoin the Alliance as a Jedi, let no one fear that my resolve has changed. We stand together – and we will fight the Empire as one."

.

Hardly had the holocams turned off when Leia flung herself into Luke's arms. He squeezed her hard to his chest, breathing in her love and support, and his immense pain over Shira's betrayal eased a little. This love was unconditional – and she didn't even _know_... Soon. He'd tell her soon.

They stood close together still when Han came bursting in - and upon seeing the embracing couple stopped so abruptly that Chewie barrelled straight into him. "Hey –" He quickly pulled himself together. "Hey, kid. Nice flying. Not a scratch. Maybe you can borrow her again another time." He flashed his trademark lopsided smile, if a little forced.

Luke was fully aware of just _how_ generous Han was being. "Thanks, Han." He pulled the Corellian in for a hug, then Chewie. Heck, he'd really _have_ to tell Leia soon – because Han had the right to know too.

It would have to wait, though, because right now, _everyone_ seemed to want to talk to him and express their support and sympathies. It took Luke almost an hour to get from the assembly room to Rogue Squadron's ready room, so many people stopped him on the way. When he finally approached the room he was surprised to catch sight of a lithe figure leaving, red-gold hair no less striking for being knotted into a strict braid. He nodded to her. "Mara."

She returned the curt greeting. "Skywalker."

"Everything fine with you?" He burned to ask so many things of her but realized right away that he might as well postpone it; she was as unapproachable as ever.

She shrugged. "Could be worse, I guess."

With that she was already turning to leave, but halted and added over her shoulder: "Nice show, by the way."

"Thanks." Luke deadpanned, for once prepeared. "I thought you might like it. It was all improvised, you know."

She gave him a dry glower and for a long, enthralling moment she seemed almost to smile. Then she shrugged and walked away.

Luke stood back and desperately fought a sudden desire to laugh aloud.

T.B.C.


	28. Chapter 28

Once again my warm thanks to **frodogenic** for making posting today possible! This story truly would be nothing without her!

And the same goes to you, amazing readers - you keep me spurred and inspired! I just can't thank you enough!

* * *

**Quagmire - Chapter 28**

**Conclusion and interlude**

Early the next morning Luke found himself outside the detention cell. He hardly knew what he hoped to achieve, and he didn't have much hope of success anyway, but he had to try. He _had_ to, even though he knew this visit would only end one way. After what he'd learned about Shira, there couldn't be any good outcome. Even without knowing the specific and ugly details of her treachery – the arson, the sabotage, Artoo – he should have known they had no future together –

Only he _hadn't _known. On the contrary, he had _believed_ in Shira, in their relationship. On a conscious level.

Luke closed his eyes for a moment, the painful consequenses of his own shortcomings washing over him. He should have known. He _could_ have known, had he chosen to see it. But he had muddied the water, had chosen not to trust his deepest instincts. Instead he had tried to commit himself, had offered promises from his head, not from his heart. He had wanted more, he had strained for more, where he'd known all along there wasn't more, and the natural consequence of over-straining anything was pain. But now there was just one thing he needed from Shira – was it only himself who felt the pain, or did Shira too? Had she been lying all the time or had she, on some level, cared for him? Perhaps it shouldn't make a difference, but right now it did.

He suspected their meeting today wouldn't be as private as he would wish. Though he hadn't asked about it, it was a solid bet that hidden holocams would be picking up every word and every motion. But he couldn't bring himself to care, not now. Luke pushed the door release to the visiting cell.

Shira sat in the pristine white room, her hands on the small metallic table. She looked very beautiful and vulnerable, scars still visible on her chin and throat but robbing her of none of her beauty. Her eyes widened in surprise as she saw him.

Luke sat down on the chair on the other side of the table. "Hello, Shira."

"I…" She broke off, visibly unsure. "They said you'd left."

He nodded. "I did. But I came back."

Her eyes flickered and he could clearly sense her mind buzzing for a way to tackle this, an opportunity to twist it to her own benefit. "Then you've heard what they're accusing me of?"

"I have. Is it true, Shira?"

"No, of course not." The words left her lips so smoothly, her expression a perfect match in its mix of disbelief and hurt feelings.

"Can you say that again without shielding?" Luke couldn't avoid a dry note in his voice. Now that he'd become aware of it, her shielding practically slammed against his senses – and despite all his guilt, he knew he was disappointed in her too.

For a moment there was a deadly blaze from her narrowed eyes, then her face smoothed again. "I… don't understand what you mean."

Luke shook his head, feeling suddenly very tired. He had already learned what he'd come to learn. Now he just needed to say what he'd come to say, and he wanted it over with. "Look, Shira. I just came here to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry I threw that grenade. I'm sorry we're sitting here. But as things have turned out I can see very clearly _why_ they turned out the way they did. All I can say is… that I wish it had all been different. And I'm sorry. Can you accept that?"

Her face hardened, hate growing visible in those stonehard, green eyes. "You fool! You didn't come here for me at all. You came here for yourself to get rid of your own damn guilt! But you won't shove it off on me! You _deformed_ me! You took my life and made a fracking _cyborg _out of me! _You_ - who told me you cared for me and that you wanted us to be there for each other. And just _hours _after that, _hours, _Skywalker, you threw that grenade to save your own, petty life!"

He still rose to his own defense. "I didn't know I threw it at you!"

"Didn't you?" she challenged. "You with your great Jedi powers, you expect me to believe that? Oh, you knew, Luke. Maybe it was deep down, but somewhere you _knew_. But you didn't care for me enough. You_ lied_."

"Shira…" His words died. How could he ever wash himself free of that accusation? How could he ever deliver proof? And even if he could, would she care?

"You lied," she repeated. "And today you sit here, gloating. Have you at any point tried to defend me? Fought my case? I think not. That's not caring. You're a liar, Luke Skywalker. You're a coward and a liar and I will hate you to the day I die!"

Of course she wouldn't care. He glanced to the table. "It looks like… we both misjudged each other." He rose to leave.

"Oh, don't act so heartbroken," Shira sneered. "You've already proved just how deep it sticks."

"I trusted you, Shira. Everyone did!"

Her voice dripped with suppressed malice. "Oh, you can still trust me, Luke. Trust me to stab a knife in your back if you ever turn it to me."

Luke stood motionless for a moment, staring in her eyes. Slowly, deliberately, he turned and left.

. . .

Returning from her morning shift, Mara was on edge. Shira Brie had been revealed on all possible levels – except perhaps as an Imperial. The rebels had enemies other than the Empire, and as far as they knew Brie could be associated with any of them. On the other hand the Empire outweighed all the rest of the Alliance's enemies by a factor of thousands, so despite lacking any actual proof of Brie's allegiance to the Emperor, everyone probably assumed she was Imperial anyway. Let them investigate or assume whatever they wanted about where Brie's loyalties lay – Mara herself was far more concerned with whether those loyalties would stay put. Would Brie remain loyal to her Master – or would she choose to buy herself better conditions by selling her colleague out?

There was no way of knowing. This far, Mara hadn't seen any indication that Brie had turned her in, but it could chance any moment. As long as that she-nexu was still with the Rebel fleet, she'd have that card to play. From now on, Mara had to be constantly alert. But she couldn't allow that wariness to show, even in the slightest – Skywalker would be burned now, and consciously or subconsciously more on edge, especially around lovely mysterious redheads trying to spark his amorous interest. Which, if she read the writing on the wall correctly, was probably about to become her job.

Counting the ways she wanted to break Brie's neck, Mara reached her cabin – and found Deena waiting outside it, smiling so broadly Mara doubted she'd fit through the door. "Finally!" the blonde girl crowed. "You can start packing!"

Mara stared dumbfounded. "Packing?"

"Yeah, packing," Deena grinned. "You remember Doodjie, my room mate?"

Mara nodded. The unsociable Besalisk was hard to forget. She and Deena had made about the worst pairing imaginable. Mara wasn't sure Deena had ever realized that. Doodjie, evidently, had.

"Well, she was transferred to the Independence yesterday. And guess what? I managed to talk the sergeant in Personnel into you being my new room mate. Isn't that great?" If Deena were to bounce off the walls any harder, the structural integrity of the entire ship might shortly be compromised.

_Good grief_…"Wonderful." Mara suppressed sigh. Well, at least there wasn't much to pack…

. . .

Luke stepped out of the turbolift from the detention section and walked smack into Han and Wedge, the two of them leaning against either side of the wall facing the lift exit. Luke glanced from one to the other. "Is this some kind of a Corellian ambush?"

"Just consider us your support group," Wedge replied lightly. "High time we sat you down for talking-to. And talking-with, I suppose."

"And don't worry," Han added. "We'll go to the _Falcon_. Chewie will be there too, in case the Corellian vibe starts to get to you."

Together they crossed the main hangar until they came to the battered YT-1300 freighter where Chewbacca greeted them with fresh caf in the main hold.

"So, you went to see Shira?" Wedge remarked, slinging himself down on the couch.

Luke sat down beside him. "I had to," he replied a bit defensively. "I had to see for myself if there was… I dunno, anything that could be saved, I guess. Not that I thought there would be…" He sighed and stared at his hands.

Han and Chewie grunted and Wedge nodded in sympathy. "So, what do you make of it all?"

Luke rubbed his temples, closing his eyes. "That Shira was a horrible mistake from square one," he finally answered.

Wedge shrugged. "Well, that can happen to anyone, you know. And it's not like she didn't ask for trouble." Then he grew serious. "But I guess I should apologize. I was giving you bad advice there."

"Hey," Luke muttered. "How often do I listen to your advice anyway?"

"Yeah, now that I think about it, you've been contradicting me ever since you showed up on Yavin. And I don't care if you did hit it, there's still no resemblance in hell between a two-meter exhaust port and a fracking wimp rat –"

"_Womp_ rat," Luke corrected automatically.

Chewie whuffled and Han nodded. "We should all have listened to Chewie. He was claiming all along that you weren't convinced about Shira. He could smell it, he says. I remember I asked him about it at one point and he gave me a long Wookiee explanation about the difference between mates and mating."

Luke's mouth twiched. "Maybe it was good I didn't ask. Sounds like it would have been too hot stuff for me."

Han rolled his eyes, mouth pulling to the familiar, loopsided smile. "Good point, kid. Yeah, probably." They all grinned and Luke felt, for a moment, almost cheerful for the first time in weeks. The ramp entry chime shattered the silence. Han glanced at the monitor. "Uh huh. Fire alarm!"

Luke started and reached out with his senses, then relaxed as he realized Han didn't mean it literally. Wedge leaned forward to get a better view of the rec room hatch, whistling upon seeing the incomers. "Our all time favourite couple - Blondie and Red. Come _in_ girls!"

Mara launched her trademark glower. Deena's equally trademark grin threatened to split her face in two. "Hey guys! I _knew_ we could find you here. Guess what! Mara and I are roommates now!" She bounced down on the couch beside Luke.

The look of resigned exasperation Mara shot her friend prompted Luke to smile. There was warmth there too, if hidden behind quite a few layers of sarcasm. It was funny with Mara, he reflected – she was so unapproachable and abrasive, yet he could always sense… _Sense? Wait a minute_…

"Well, that's great news," Han drawled. "So now if we need a supply officer and a technician we only need to make one call." Rising, he gave his chair to Mara with exaggerated chivalry and trotted off to fetch himself a new one.

"That's so funny, Han," Deena squealed after him, "because I was just coming to that! Even Mara hasn't heard yet!" She reached unabashedly for the caf , looking questioningly to Chewie for a cup.

Mara's head turned sharply and her look turned wary. "Heard what?"

"We're going on a trip together," Deena beamed. "Nothing special, just a short supply run, but anyway. An old freighter called Borrowed Beauty needs a supply officer and a mech – and I told them that we'd be the best team they could get."

Wedge frowned in surprise. "On a trip? But...isn't the fleet is assembling…?"

"Exactly. And d'you know _why_ they insisted this supply trip should take place before the battle?" Deena poked at Mara with her elbow. "_You_ of all people should know."

Some impatience creeped into Mara's voice and she pushed the arm away. "Of course I don't know. Why?"

"You should have a clue," Deena insisted, winking wildly at her. "You've been… _involved_."

Mara sighed. "Spill it, Shan."

Deena's face broke to a grin. "We're going to pick up a stock of _durasteel_ containers. Ain't that funny? After the fire, Supply agreed that plastifoam was a bad idea and they've been working like maniacs to find a cheap stock – and they found one on a mining station close to Eriadu. That's not more than a daytrip from here. We'll be back before anyone knows we've been away."

Deena's confidence reverberated in the Force and something about it made Luke stir. "Just the two of you?" he asked.

"Of course not, silly!" Deena laughed. "We'll be only part of the crew! _Borrowed Beauty_is a big freighter. Have you got any idea how many containers we're talking about here?"

Luke had only a vague idea, but didn't especially care. "You need a fighter escort, don't you?"

Deena frowned. "That might be good, I guess. But won't everyone be too busy to –"

"I'll come with you." Suddenly it was crucial that he followed Deena and Mara on that mission, no matter how peaceful it seemed. How it could be crucial when he'd only known about it for a minute, he had no idea. But he was learning to accept the lead of the Force by now.

Wedge looked at him in surprise. "But Gelsk…"

Han shook her head. "Gelsk won't say anything. Leia says that after that tape of Artoo's, Luke has a – ah, what the hells did she call it...uh, carte blanche." The face he made – his usual expression when forced to use words he considered frilly – suggested it was some sort of slimy Huttese entree.

"Maybe." Luke wasn't so sure. "He still has to come up with a punishment for me leaving, though. After all, I _was_ grounded."

"Well, maybe flying container escort could work nicely as punishment," Han suggested. Chewbacca letting out an amused rumble. "Yeah, you said it, Chewie. Kid could actually be the one to _load_ the containers. He just needs to wave his hand a little and in they go. How many can you handle at a time, Luke?"

Mara snorted – for once in amusement, instead of derision. Luke rubbed his temple, suddenly very tired. "Han…"

Wedge grinned. "As long as there's no salam… ysim… what did you call them, Dee?"

"Ysalamiri," Deena informed.

"Ah, those." Luke stirred up again. "That's an interesting story, Deena. But Master Yoda never told me about any such creatures. Ben didn't either."

"Maybe that's exactly what it is – a story." Wedge shrugged. "I mean, a childhood memory of a petshop dealer isn't exactly hard evidence."

"Hey!" Deena protested, offended. "I'm not making this up! There was a furry lizzard - and Sabodor never lied!" As Wedge looked pointedly at her she added, "Not to me anyway."

Han stroke his chin. "Huh. I've actually met Sabodor myself. Chewie has too." Chewie let out a low rumble but Han only shrugged. "Well, whatever that guy is, it ain't stupid or shady. He has a reputation and he's proud of it, so if he claims something works, I'd say it does. Still, I've never heard of creatures like that either." He leaned back, enough to tip his repulsor chair dangerously. "The point is, that you should never take the Force for granted kid. It's handy when it's there but you can't rely on it."

Luke gave his friend a pointed look. "I've lived without it most of my life, Han. I'd never take it for granted. And I might not rely so much on it either if I could just quit running into situations where I have to."

"Yeah – you always were a trouble magnet, kid," the Corellian quipped. "Though I gotta say it worked fine when Chewie and you escaped. Not to diminish your jumping and lightsaber flashing - but opening hangar gates – that's some telekinesis!"

It took Luke a moment to understand what Han was talking about. "What do you mean I opened the hangar gate? I didn't do anything." He had wondered about the gate too, but forgotten in all the confusion. In the corner of his eye, Mara moved slightly.

Wedge rose an eyebrow. "Well, how did it open did then?"

Luke turned to look at Mara. "You were there. What happened?"

She glanced back blankly. "What are you talking about?" Her expression was completely impassive but something about it bugged Luke.

"In the control room," he clarified. "When Chewie and I went off with the _Falcon_."

Mara made no sign of understanding. "Yeah, what about it?"

"They took back the clearance to leave – but they still opened the gate. Why?" There was a strange familiarity to the glazed sensation he got from her – just like… _Kreth, she does't _want_ to answer!_

She shrugged. "Why do you think I should know that?"

She was_ shielding! _Just having left Shira, there was no mistaking – Luke knew the feeling now._ But it's not what I usually pick up from her… Most of the time I sense her _strongly_! Not like Shira at all… _"Well you were there. What did they do?"

"I was talking to Zevv most of the time," Mara replied tartly. "Trying to get him off your back, remember? I didn't realize you wanted me to keep track of what everyone _else _was doing too."

"I… hey!" Luke broke off, annoyed. The need to dig deeper itched in him – so of course it was now the damned woman chose to pull the you-should-be-grateful-to me-card. He took a deep breath. "Ok. I'm grateful. You were really swell back there. I actually don't think we could have managed without you. But…"

Chewie grumbled a protest, certain he'd have made Zevv leave anyway.

"Yeah, but if he'd run off screaming, he might have alerted everyone and we couldn't have gotten out. Mara confused him," Luke explained impatiently, turning back to the redhead. She sat with lips tight and eyes narrowed, fixating him. "But you were there. Didn't you see if anyone opened the gate?"

"Your gratitude is indeed touching," she snorted. "I'll remember that _next_ time you're in trouble."

Luke wasn't yielding. The longer he could keep her like this, the deeper the strange mix of her now obvious shielding and the yet clear sensation of her in the Force would imprint in his memory – he could contemplate on it later. "So, you didn't see anything?"

"Didn't I just answer that question, Jedi boy?"

Han bobbed an eyebrow at Wedge and the latter leaned closer. "Is he back in the saddle already, you think?" he murmured, not taking his eyes from the arguing couple.

"Not yet," Han breathed back. "He's got some wounds to lick."

"How much you wanna bet?"

Han assumed a considering expression. "I got twenty credits that say it'll take 'em six weeks."

"Oh, _please_. Not a day over four –"

All exchanges were interrupted by the ramp chime. A moment later Leia entered and everything was dismissed for a full round of hugs. She gave Luke a hearty embrace and a smile that would have thawed a wampa and pushed the mystery of Mara momentarily from his mind as all he'd recently learned about Leia and himself streamed up to the surface. Again, he had to resist the fierce urge to tell her everything. It still wasn't time. He could not tell her the good part without the bad, could not reveal them as siblings without also telling who their father was. It would cripple her, right now when she needed her strength the most. In a few days they would go to battle. A better moment would arrive.

"You arrived just in time, sweetheart," Han jibed, pulling Leia to his lap. "Luke and Mara here were arguing like an old married couple. Just like us."

Luke ran his hand over his treacherously warm face and glanced up at Mara's warning snort. Her eyes were narrowed dangerously at the Corellian. "Knock it off, Han." The last thing he wanted now was anybody believe he was trying to…

Leia rose her eyebrows, unfazed. "And just when did we became an old _married_ couple, Han Solo?"

"Ah, just you wait, Highnessness. Course we might want to get a move on before the kid here laps us." He gave her a sound kiss.

Luke rubbed his temples. "Right. And here I just sent _one_ girlfriend to the medbay."

For a moment there was an awkward silence. "And from there straight to the detention area." Wedge shot in. "You had to do it."

"Yes," Leia agreed. "Don't blame yourself for that, Luke. She fooled us all."

"Except Chewie," Han went on, unaffected. "Chewie was telling me all the time that he didn't like Shira's smell. And looking back, I shoulda seen it too. There's something wrong when a chick like Shira Brie keeps making herself up like that. But I was kinda happy for the kid I guess - and so I pushed it aside." He shook his head, giving Chewie a thumbs up. "But it turns out you were right, buddy. It ain't natural when the girl's drooling over the guy. It oughta be the other way round."

Mara snorted again and Deena gave him an offended look. ""What's that supposed to mean?"

Han waved with the arm that wasn't holding Leia. "Weell. Maybe kid woulda been more interested if he'd had to work a little harder. It was sorta fine this time, her being a spy and all – but if things had been different…"

Deena snapped her hands to her hips in indignation, elbowing both Luke and Mara in the process. "_I _asked Corin to go out with me! Not the other way round!"

Leia had turned to glare at Han too, and looking quickly around, the Corellian suddenly realized that he'd managed to get the girls against him – and that no man present was going to help him in this one. Luke's study in Jedi serenity was rivaled with Wedge's impeccable sabacc face and Chewie was obviously counting the hairs on the back of his paw. Han turned back to Deena. "Hey, it's different with you, sweetcake," he tried to sooth. "Corin's not… well, not like other guys."

"Now, what's wrong with Corin?" Deena prompted, eyes blazing now. "He's the best and sweetest guy I've ever met! And don't you come here Han Solo and tell me he'll love me less because I was the one who acted first."

"Umm," Han muttered. "Of course not…"

"I can tell you Deena, that you're very lucky," Leia announced, rising demonstratively. "Corin's different in the way that he's _double_ the man most are. He doesn't have a problem if a girl shows more initiative or stamina than him. _He_ can cope with it. _Some_ men don't have a need to belittle it and make it seem unnatural." She gave Han a dirty look, then Luke too. Luke jolted, glancing to Leia first, then flashed to Han, mouthing an accusing_ what did _I _do_?

"Well, I have a meeting to see to," Leia announced, glancing to Deena and Mara. "I can't sit and hang around here all day."

"Me neither." Mara got to her feet briskly. "Dee?"

Deena tossed her head. "You said a true word, Leia." She flounced free from the holochess table and walked in before Mara, following Leia out, trailed by the gazes of the flummoxed men left behind. Just before Deena reached the exit a thought hit her and she turned around, causing Mara to almost bump into her. "Oh, and Luke – I'll speak to Muvunc about that container thing. It could be great if they could let that be part of your punishment." She whirled back round and hasted after Leia.

Mara threw a last glance to Luke, their eyes locking, then went after her. Luke continued to stare after her until the hatch closed.

Wedge gave him a sly grin, not having missed who his friend's eyes dwelled on. "Heeey, look who's looking…"

Luke sighed. "New subject, please."

"All right," Wedge obliged, turning suddenly serious. "I'll come with you on that trip. This morning I was transferred to the leader slot of Shira's Red Squadron. That container escort job sounds like a good pre-action rehearsal; make sure we've got all the bantha dung shovelled out of the way."

Luke gave him a puzzled look. "How do you explain me flying with you, then?"

"Well, seems like Deena will be working for it from her part – but I'd be happier if you'd fly, of course. Besides, they're breaking up the Rogues for this battle and in that process I think they're toying with putting you on lead of Reds anway. The reason why they didn't do it right away is that Madine wants you to stay clear for some special operation as usual. That's why they asked me - they know we can switch any day. Besides, we need to poke into that emotional mess Shira left behind, a few people just shouldn't work together anymore so there's gonna be more transfers coming. Hobbie's coming along too."

"What about Wes?"

"Dunno yet. They don't want all aces in one squadron and I can't blame them. I know Tycho's been moved to Green Flight, though."

Lando had been asked too, Luke knew. He hadn't told what ship he'd be flying. Luke had problems imagning him in an X-wing.

As they left the _Falcon_ Luke leaned in to Han, lowering his voice. "Why doesn't Chewie like Sabodor?"

"Ah," Han lowered his voice to a whisper too. "Old grudge. When we visited Sabodor, he thought Chewie was the goods."

. . .

Returning to his cabin that night, Luke found himself staring into its familiar, night-black walls in much greater clarification than before but big questions still ahead.

Leia – the woman he'd cared for so deeply was his sister – at least there was a riddle he'd found the answer to. He reached gently out to her and sensed her mind swirling not far away, radiant, glowing that dogged determination he loved so much. Now he knew why he'd always been able to understand her so well. It was like Yoda had said, it was hard to seek truths in the Force unless you knew what to search for. But when you found it, it all seemed easy.

Shira – who'd been a much more troubling puzzle - had turned out a spy. Why she'd gone for him as she had, only Force knew, and Luke suspected it would take a long time before Intel would manage to get anything out of her. But he couldn't dwell on that. Whatever mistakes he'd made in the past months, he was past fears and regrets now. Shira could blame him, and maybe she was partly right, but she had still made her own choices. Luke couldn't do anything for her.

As for Mara, she remained an enigma. She had been shielding today - he was absolutely sure of it. Still, it didn't feel the same with Mara as it had with Shira. _Nothing_ about Mara felt the same as Shira! Mara he could sense – often so strongly that he knew what she was going to say even before she opened her mouth. But if she was shielding – didn't that make her a Force user? Or was it possible for people to shield subconsciously, without knowledge of what they were doing? He couldn't see why not; he had himself used the Force even as a little child, without knowing what he was doing. And Mara was a private person – since she kept people at bay consciously, it made sense that she might subconscioulsy do the same with the Force.

On the other hand, she'd been fully deliberate when she'd tried to lead him astray today, not wanting to answer his questions. Why? After all she'd been _helping_ him escape – why try to conceal it? Luke closed his eyes, rubbed his temples.

_Your thoughts betray you. Seek your answers in the Force and find the truth you will._

And as he reached out, the Force told him it all would be all right – that what he needed to think of right now wasn't Mara, nor was it Leia or even Shira. It was – as ever – his father. Luke took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

The moment was closing in, he could feel it. And he had no idea how that meeting would go, no plan, no idea, save this: he couldn't run from it – and he couldn't kill his own father. He just couldn't! As Anakin's son, he'd had an obligation to his father – he had it as Vader's son too. Mara might insist on children not owing their parents but that wasn't how Luke could live his life.

He had told Ben this, Ben and Yoda, and while both old Jedi had protested, Luke hadn't budged a millimeter. He knew, somehow he _knew_, that while the steel of Darth Vader's armour was painted in black, there was still light inside that durasteel enclasped chest, if not compassion, then at least a leniency, a strange, moral standard that might be screwed and distorted but that nonetheless _wa_s. Something, _something_ had held his father back – at the Death Star when Vader could have killed Luke but hadn't – at their clash at Bespin when the Dark Lord had had several opportunities but had ended up offering Luke half of the galaxy instead. Some sense of empathy, some sense of kinship. Even when Vader had held Leia in his clutches, not knowing she was his daughter, he had tortured her, but never humiliated her to the sadistic extent Luke knew many other Imperial commanders would have done.

Vader's disappointment, his outright pain at Luke's rejection, he had felt so clearly it still hunted his dreams. Maybe he haunted his father's dreams too? As hideous and machine-like as Vader might appear, he was more human behind that armor than was Shira behind her angelic face. Love had been wasted on her – but maybe, just maybe, it would not be wasted on his father...

The thought – the awful hope that some spark of Anakin Skywalker could have survived all these years, could be rekindled, stoked to a blaze – tormented Luke long into the night, seeing strange visions in the pitch blackness of his cabin.

. . .

*So he returned…*

The Emperor fell into contemplative silence and Mara adjusted her position just slightly, preparing for a long wait. Things had turned out in an unexpected direction and he would consult the Force before he resumed their contact. That things weren't as unexpected to Mara as they were to her Master was irrelevant. She waited.

Finally, the Emperor spoke again. *What is your…opinion of Skywalker, child? Your personal opinion.*

Mara felt a wave of hope. He valued her judgement again. Things were finally going her way once more. She had been right in her assumption that Skywalker would return and consequently her Master's opinion of her was restored. She weighted her words carefully.

*I believe that at his core, he is an honorable man, Master. He is doing the wrong thing, but he's doing it for all the right reasons. If Vader hadn't been harsh and managed to get Skywalker's relatives killed four years ago and thus practically thrown him into the arms of the Rebels, he would have been easy for us to pick. But as it is now, he's turned out a die-hard. He will be difficult to turn against the Rebellion. Also, his friends anchor him here. They are his strength. It's my belief that killing them would only harden his resolve, as it did previously.*

*The greatest strength always holds the seed to the greatest weakness, child, remember that,* her Master admonished. *And indeed, as events have transpired, Agent Brie has played into our hands to teach Skywalker the first lesson in this.* He paused. *That being said, Agent Brie has failed. The future is always in motion and new developments are already taking momentum, I see it quite clearly. Are you prepared, my Hand? To take Brie's place as Skywalker's mistress?*

Mara's took a deep breath. This was what she'd feared – and still on some strange level had been awaiting for some time now. And at least she was pretty damn sure by now that she wouldn't have to kill the Jedi, not anymore. *On my part, my Master. There's an attraction between us that's reciprocal. But I cannot see him ready for a relationship so soon after Brie. He must be viewing all of that as a great personal failure. And he shies away from dalliances.*

*He will love you next.* The Emperor dismissed her doubts without hesitation. *I've seen it. And as he will still be a Jedi when he does, it will be soon. This will give us new possibilities.* Her Master fell silent again for long moments.

*I sense… a child.*

Mara's heart skipped a beat. *Master?*

Her Master dragged the words, as was he recieving visions from the Force as they spoke. *Yes, yeess… A child… he will be… powerful… A fruitation of all my efforts… these two strong lines….* He fell silent and Mara could almost sense him dwell in his sensations.

Mara's head raced instead through the biological necessities. *But Master, when I was sixteen I was… It shouldn't be even possible… I should maybe go to the medbay and…*

*Nothing is impossible to the Force, child. The Force will find a way. Pitiful technology and security arrangements are no match to its strength. Now, prepare yourself. And contact me when it has happened.*

*Yes, Master.*

As the contact faded again Mara found herself staring at the wall before her, more confused than ever. _Child? _Happen? When would this happen? Was it inevitable as her Master had said? And what in the name of the galaxy was the direction she should take in this madness?

T.B.C.


	29. Chapter 29

You get this chapter a bit earlier since I'll be really busy the next couple of days. It might be the case with ch 30 too when we get that far - or than it will be a few days late. Anyway, I'll try to keep posting rate despite vacation.

Again my warmest thanks go to frodo for her amazing help and support!

* * *

**Quagmire - Chapter 29**

**Borrowed Beauty**

Lounging in the crew-hold, Mara listened absently to Deena's merry babbling as they flew through hyperspace, the load of containers safely in the storage holds of the Alliance Action VI Transport Borrowed Beauty. The trip had been remarkably uneventful. They had arrived at the closed down mining station where only the manager was left - a man with a face like a boot-sole – and even he'd left the place as soon as the credits had changed hands. This had enabled the X-wings to descend from orbit but Mara hadn't been able to stay around to witness their jokes and pranks - being the team's technician, she'd had her hands busy handling all the standard check-ups, while the others saw to it that the containers had been fetched and loaded. Apparently Skywalker's telekinesis had been a time-saver that kicked butt because when Mara was finished with her routines, the cargo was already stowed. She'd arrived in time to see the loading droids tractoring the last containers to the hull; the holds stuffed stuffed to the bilges and even the Docking Bay used for cargo. Inwardly, Mara was somewhat disappointed since she'd expected to spend some time with Skywalker – on the other hand, the Rogues seemed determined to drink them all out of their seats in the Chaos when they came back to Home One, and maybe that was a better opportunity anyway. Mara leaned back in her chair, adjusting her legs into a comfortable position, and benched all thoughts of Skywalker. For the next several hours there was nothing she could do about him; he was in his fighter for the jump back to the Fleet, and she was stuck here aboard Borrowed Beauty.

Borrowed Beauty. The name suggested the ship had been renamed after falling into Rebel hands. Personally Mara thought Wilted Beauty would have suited it better. The power systems hadn't been upgraded since the days of Supreme Chancellor Valorum – the early days – the sublight engines could barely turn on a Death Star, much less a decicred chip, and the hyperdrive whined constantly and loudly. Mara had gotten used to the drone of it by now, just as she had gotten used to Deena's wordstream, and she didn't particularly mind, responding with an "mmh" to the latter every now and then. At the moment the subject of Deena's effervescent commentary was her fiancé Corin. Mara still failed to see what Deena saw in him, and the more explanations she was offered the less she got it; the poor man sounded so incredibly boring – what else could you say about a guy who came from Aargau but had never actually visited the Dawn Pyramid, who collected a stone from every planet he visited and who apparently thought a good day at work was when you could concentrate on painting hulls? At least you couldn't accuse Skywalker of being boring, thank the Force. For a hideous moment she imagined the Emperor ordering her to seduce Corin's twin –

At that very thought, her danger sense went wild. Instinctively she clutched the table before her to brace herself. The next second the freighter jerked violently as something yanked them out of hyperspace. The engines pitched a fit and the hull groaned its protest as the hyperdrive crashed and the sublight engines took over, the old ship stabilizing itself as slowly and ponderously asgruttingly like an old bantha. Deena, who'd had no warning whatsoever, was hurled through the small crew hold and headlong into a bulkhead. Mara lurched to her feet and staggered towards her over the careening deck. Blood gushed from Deena's nose, smearing her face and chest completely, but otherwise she seemed all right.

"What happened?" Deena demanded, voice trembling. She pressed her hand to the bridge of her nose to stop the bleeding.

Mara didn't answer but got to her feet and raced to the bridge, where the captain and the rest of the crew were on tenterhooks. The co-pilot still spared a second to look up as she entered, with Deena on her heels. "It's an Imperial Interdictor. They pulled us out of hyperspace and are telling us to stand down," he panted.

"No kidding," Mara muttered. She didn't have to look at the captain to know jokes were the farthest thing from his mind. On the monitor screen lurked the familiar shapes of a Star Destroyer and a squadron of TIE fighters. Glancing out the transparisteel windows she could directly see the triangular bulk of the Destroyer, white against the dark space like a giant fang. It began to look like her undercover mission might be in for a sudden and unexpected end.

"Were's our escort?" she demanded. "Weren't any of them yanked out of hyperspace?"

Almost as an answer to her question Luke Skywalker's voice came over the com system. "Borrowed Beauty, this is Rogue Leader. Come in Borrowed Beauty."

"Commander Skywalker?" Captain Terk breathed out in relief. "Thank the Force that you're still with us. What about the rest of our escort?"

"Uh…not so hot. It looks like only two of us were caught by the Interdictor."

Captain Terk's smile faded. "Then we don't have a chance. Look Commander, we're no doubt their main prey so you might still have a chance. Take your wingman and haul ass out of here. When you come over the edge of the gravity well you can make the jump and …"

"Not so fast, Captain," the Jedi's voice came back. "If only a few of us were pulled out it must mean that we're at the borders of the range of that Interdictor. And with those TIEs out and around it can't even try to use its tractor bean. I agree that we should try to run, but we can swing it together. Hobbie and I can keep the enemy fighters at bay… Hobbie, are you with me?" He hadn't finished before the two X-wings emerged out from space behind the freighter and formed up between Borrowed Beauty and the incoming fighters. Excitement surged in Mara's gut.

The Captain, however, was neither excited nor convinced. "Commander Skywalker, I appreciate your courage but…" He trailed off, the inevitability of the situation occurring to him. Apparently Skywalker's particular brand of obstinate and suicidal courage was the stuff of rebel legend.

Deena, who was hanging on Mara's arm, dug her nails into it in panic. Mara responded by jabbing an irritated elbow into her ribs. Now the TIEs were visible to the eye too. In a few moments they would be all over the freighter.

Captain Terk cleared his throat. "All right, girls. You'd better get back to your places and strap up well! This is going to be tough!"

Deena didn't have to be told twice but disappeared back to the crew hold. Mara lingered near the hatch. She had never seen Skywalker fly and didn't want to miss the opportunity – she had heard so much of the man's abilities – and now he'd be flying in combat, against abysmal odds. What better chance could she expect to see how much was true and how much exaggeration?

It wasn't thirty seconds before she had to admit that the Jedi knew how to pilot a ship. Klivian wasn't exactly a greenhorn either. The two small Rebel fighters dived straight into the enemy squadron, juking and jinking and pouring with blasterfire – within seconds the TIE formation was completely split up. The bad side of it was of course that another squadron was already launching from the Star Destroyer.

Captain Terk threw a glance on her. "Are you here still, Jade?"

"Sorry!" Mara dragged herself off the bridge, fuming. She'd have liked to see that space battle!

Strapped in a few moments later, however, she came to the conclusions that standing on the bridge would have been impossible, even on the short run. The ship rocked and bucked, both from the hits it took and the desperate maneuvers it made to avoid them. A particularly violent jolt indicated that the Star Destroyer had opened fire as well – which must mean that the TIEs been pulled back.

The voices from the command deck rose to shrill yells, informing Mara that the situation was a few laser strikes away from being completely out of control. She wondered if Skywalker was still alive and reached out with her senses. Still there, dashing and darting like his pants were on fire. But whether that would be enough to save them was quite another question. The Imperial forces were plainly shooting to kill, and they had the firepower to do it quick. Mara's stomach tightened. She could run to the Bridge, demand to contact the Interdictor and give her code that would reveal her as the Emperor's Hand. If Terk and his crew protested, she could shoot them where they sat at their stations; just a good resounding threat might do the trick… And Deena was no threat, Mara could immobilize her with her left pinky…

Still, her mission was to stay with Skywalker and befriend him. She'd barely even gotten her toe in the door.. Besides, Mara told herself, what brought two people together faster than surviving overwhelming odds in battle? Hell, half the romantic holoflicks she'd seen used that plot! Of course she had only seen two, and both had been because Deena insisted on –

An alarm started to sound and Deena flew up but was yanked back by her crash webbing. "What's that?"

Mara was trying to interpret the many signals, but without the support of a control panel it wasn't that easy. "I think it must be the shields," she mumbled. "They were never that good on this flying scrap pile in the first place. Perhaps we…"

She was interrupted by a loud bang. The ship plunged sideways as if hit by a monster asteroid, and an earsplitting screech followed together with a shower of fireworks from the electric wires. Sparks flew around the hold and the girls cowered on the seats, covering themselves as best they could. Mara heard herself screaming together with Deena and the crew in the cockpit. Then the ship jolted again, the engines howled, stopped and started again. Silence ensued.

Several seconds later Mara peered up into pitch-black darkness and took several deep breaths. Even as she did, the emergency lights blinked on and revealed Deena, pressing her hands to her mouth, eyes huge and terrified in her still-bloodied face. Apart from their own heavy breathing and a few sparks from a consol nearby, the silence on the ship was booming.

Mara ripped the crash webbing off and rushed to the bridge. Deena screamed something after her but she didn't pay attention. All her senses told her that something was terribly wrong and if she didn't act now it would turn worse still.

The stench of burned flesh hit her as she entered the bridge and was so overwhelming she had to steady herself against the wall. Her stomach revolted and she had to press her hand against her mouth to control herself. Five men dead in a few seconds!

In contained desperation she forced herself a path, pulling burnt bodies from the still-smoking instrument panels while she shouted at Deena for help.

"Oh Force…" Deena halted in the door and Mara could see that she was on the border of breakdown.

"Don't just stand there!" she shouted. "Come and help me fly this ship! I can't do it singlehandedly!"

She strapped herself to the pilot's seat, trying hard not to hear the sounds of Deena being sick behind her, trying even harder not to look at Terk's lifeless corpse at her feet. A glance at the operation panel however, instantly made it impossible to pay attention to anything else. The panel was completely dead. There was simply no way she could fly the ship – and the com was as dead as the rest of the functions!

"Sithspawn!" Mara hammered her fist into the panel, desperation for an instant taking control of her… The controls whined, a lamp started blinking… then another… Ok, maybe they still had a chance? Mara flicked a few switches and was rewarded with about half of them responding.

A hit shook the ship again but if it did any major harm, the operations system was far too damaged to report it. Mara reached out for the com system, jiggling the switch in an effort to coax life from it, but without success. She winced. There went the possibility of contacting the Imperials. She could see the Star Destroyer – an Immobilizer 418 Cruiser she noted now – looming huge and waiting outside the window. It wasn't firing anymore, which meant one of two things. Either they would be hauled in any moment, or the TIEs were coming back. Since the tractor beam was conspicuously silent, they were probably about to become target practice. Mara swallowed.

"Borrowed Beauty, Borrowed Beauty! Come in Borrowed Beauty!" Luke Skywalker's alarmed voice crackled through the cockpit and Mara looked around in surprise. "Where the hell is that coming from?"

Deena started. "It's my com!" she cried. "He's on my com!" She fumbled at the comlink at her belt.

"Well, take it!" Mara snapped, a sudden, wild urge to laugh overtaking her. Of course! Skywalker must have tried to contact them a dozen times already on the ship com, and when he hadn't been successful, he'd switched on to Deena's personal com, knowing she'd be on the ship.

Deena took the com and whined as Mara simultaneously yanked her down in the co-pilot's seat and started to strap her in, none too gently. "L-luke…? It's really bad here…"

"Here it's better already, now I know that you're alive!" came the swift answer. "How bad's bad?" Skywalker's voice was alert and clear and had a sobering effect on Mara – all right, there was one of these Rebels who didn't lose his head even under pressure.

"They're all dead," Deena whimpered. "All of them. The controls too."

"… all of them?" There was dread in his voice and for an instant Mara wondered if he had meant her.

"Well, I'm not dead!" she shouted. "And I don't plan on it either, so let's hear some suggestions!"

A short laugh cracked through the com. "We agree on that, then! What's status of the ship? You took a heavy hit there!"

"Severe malfunctions." Mara continued to shout, not sure how loud she had to be in order for the Jedi to hear her. "Power surge killed the crew and wrecked most of the operating system too. I'm just trying to find out what's still operational." Her hands were flying over the panel as she spoke, booting up whatever would respond as she tried to gain control over the ship.

"Can you fly her?"

"Almost." She switched the autopilot on and off, and then tried the backup juke stick. The freighter rolled a little left and right in response, faster to left but still ponderously, which told her she'd probably lost three of her four sublight engines.

"I think I can - as long as we're not hit again. But we will be any moment. I don't know what the shields can hold anymore, I can't see a thing."

"Hang on! And set your course to twelve-oh-seven-nine! Concentrate on outrunning that Interdictor! All right, TIEs coming in, back in a sec!"

Mara gasped as the TIEs flashed in on them again. With a roar, the two X-wings appeared from above them and attacked, wingtip to wingtip.

Even though she had her hands full with handling their own ship Mara couldn't ignore the dogfight. This was first time she truly saw Luke Skywalker fly, and now she understood what Hobbie Klivian had talked about that evening in the Chaos. As she stared his fighter wove through a mesh of enemy fire and looped back down, picking off a TIE that couldn't have been in his crosshairs for more than a second even as his arc carried him neatly back into formation with Klivian.

"Damn look at that flying," she breathed to Deena, not able to hold back a stir of awe in her voice. She'd seen the like of it only once in her life. And that time it had been the legendary Soontir Fel behind the controls.

"Yeah, I'm wetting my panties here too, but could you please concentrate on the flying," Deena pleaded.

"He's clearing our path," Mara muttered, "look. Whoa! Maybe not all of it…" A TIE came towards them with lasers blasting and Deena started screaming. The next second the TIE disappeared in a fireball and Mara breathed out. "Nice shooting boys."

"For you, Jade... anything," Klivian's voice came back, distant but lacking none of the flirtatious flippancy she associated with the man outside a space battle. "The collection of reward kisses takes place in the main hangar when we get home."

"Dream on, flyboy," Mara shot back glibly. This was something else than the Empire's formal, by-the-book combat protocol. If she'd had a ship that was flyable she might in fact have enjoyed the situation.

Suddenly the skirmish reached another pause. The TIEs retreated and while the Star Destroyer was probably preparing a tractor beam or a new salvo from the capital turbolasers, they might at least have a moment to catch their breath. The gravity well was still working of course, so the only way they could escape was by outrunning the Destroyer on sublight engines until they cleared its range. to it. At which point they'd run into another problem: after that hit, did she still have a functional hyperdrive?

Deena's com cracked again. "Situation?" Luke demanded.

"Flying high, boss," Hobbie's voice came back and Mara realized that Skywalker must have his ship com running with his wingmate and his own with the channel open to Deena simultanously. She tried her shipboard com again and didn't get so much as a whisper of static. No life there.

"I have to go behind to check our hyperdrive and shields manually," she announced. "Deena, can you fly the ship?"

Deena was very pale, and together with the dried blood from her nose it rendered a dramatic effect. Still, she nodded, tightfaced, and Mara knew that she at least for the moment was in control of herself. In a memory flash she remembered Luke's assertion that Deena had been the one who destroyed Bannistar Station – it looked like the girl was finding her inner guerrilla again.

"Ok," she shouted to the com. "Deena's taking over controls while I go see what I can repair."

"Start with the shields," Skywalker advised, "then the hyperdrive. Skip the sublights."

"Ever the optimist, Skywalker?" Mara snorted. "We can't jump anyway with that Interdictor in our heels."

"True. And any second we'll have a tractor beam to deal with too... What say we see what we can do about that, eh, Hobbie?"

"Uh, Luke? It's a Star Destroyer…" Hobbie's voice came back.

"Nope. It's an Interdictor-class medium frigate that's built on the hull of a Star Destroyer," Skywalker retorted pluckily. "It doesn't have the same fire power and it doesn't have the same capacity shielding as a real SD. If we can start taking out its generators, it might shut down the gravity well projectors in order to convert more energy to its shields. Besides, if we attack it we'll pull the TIEs away from the girls."

"You understand of course, boss, that in order for the SD to convert power from gravity projectors to their defense they must somehow be made to feel threatened," Hobbie retorted.

"We have three proton torpedos each – they have about a dozen generators – that gets us half way."

"Yeah, fantastic. What about the other half?"

"We'll improvise."

Mara couldn't believe her ears. "You're not seriously considering attacking a Star Destroyer with only two fighters?"

"Why are you still in the cockpit Jade? Go get your hydrospanner glowing!" came the riposte. Mara gritted her teeth. From Klivian came a low chuckle.

"Ah, hell, Boss, guess as long as we're going out we might as well go with style."

And in front of Mara and Deena's unbelieveing eyes, the two X-wings closed up in formation, aimed their noses towards the Star Destroyer – and attacked.

"They're crazy," Mara muttered, whether to Deena or herself she didn't know. "Completely crazy…"

Deena's eyes were enormous but now there was a strange shine to them too. "Weell..." she replied hesitatingly. "For someone who flew with only four flights against the Death Star I guess it's just another day at work."

Mara rolled her eyes. "At least they might be buying us valuable seconds here." She crouched beside Captain Terk's lifeless body to pick up his com. "Fly unpredictably to keep out of a tractor bean – and keep me updated," she told Deena and scrumbled down the maintainence hatch.

. . .

The circuits and engines weren't in as bad shape as might have been expected, but it was bad enough. Mara quickly decided to put her money on Skywalker's suggestion and focus on the hyperdrive – it might sound crazy but this far, she'd found that Skywalker had a knack of knowing what was best to do, be that due to his Jedi powers or something else even less logical. There was of course the possibility of pulling Deena with her into an escape pod and hoping for the best, but Mara had never made a habit of hoping for the best. The chances that the Imperial officer who commanded that Interdictor would bother to pick up a podful of Rebel scum was at best one in five. Being presumably equipped with a medium of talents and a minimum of morals and motivation, he would most likely urge his men to use the pod as target practice. Besides, every fiber in Mara screamed for her to fight as long as she still had breath left in her body, and the fact that she theoretically was on the same side as their attackers was...well, theoretical.

Deena's com was still broadcasting terse snatches of conversation between Skywalker and Klivian, but she couldn't allow herself to pay much attention to them. She vaguely realized that the Skywalker she was witnessing now was very different from that unassuming, modest Jedi and clumsy farmboy she had mostly seen this far. From what seemed ages ago, a memory sprang to mind briefly of Tatooine and the same recklessly confident young man who had saved her on the Khetanna, claiming they still had several seconds to spare.

None of which, she reminded herself furiously, had any bearing on the task at hand – to transform this half-melted bunk of wires, metal and circuits into a working hyperdrive again. It was an impossible task, impossible... But then Skywalker and Klivian were frantically tackling the impossible too. Two X-wings against a Star Destroyer! I don't care if it's a fracking Interdictor, they're certifiable! And there was Deena too, alone in the cockpit, fighting bravely to do what she thought was impossible too: flying this freighter to safety.

Precious seconds ticked by, minutes, it could have been hours or days, Mara had completely lost touch of time. She was only aware of one more cable to repair, one more wire that needed to be connected, one more, one more...

"Mara!" Deena's voice came loud over the pilot's com and pulled her back to realities. "I think... yes, the navicomputer is working again."

Mara's heart leaped. If the navicomputer had turned itself back on, then surely the hyperdrive was working again too? "Skywalker!" she demanded. "Is the gravity well out?"

"I suggest you jump and find out," came the answer. "But give me your coordinates first. How's your hyperdrive?"

Mara stared at the jumbled mess before her eyes. "Bad. But Deena says it's on again. I think we might be able manage a microjump. Maybe. It might also be that the entire ship breaks down when we try."

"Make it a quarter-lightyear microjump on the heading back to Fleet," Skywalker ordered. "You'll be out of immediate reach of that Interdictor. I'll catch up with you. Hobbie? I want you to continue to the rendezvous point and get help."

"We still – aggghh! That was close! – we still don't know whether they've shifted the power from the gravity well projectors," Klivian came back.

"They have four generators damaged. Three of them have to be out of commission entirely. I think they have."

"But they should also be able to figure out that we're out of torpedos now. They won't need the shields anymore, we can't make much of a dent with cannons only."

"We have to try. Deena, Mara, make that jump."

"Mara," Deena moaned. "Could you... sorry, I know you're busy but…"

"A sec. I'll be there." Mara connected two last wirings and closed the hatch, practically flying up the ladder to the command deck again.

"You've done great," she told Deena when the blond girl rose gratefully evacuated the pilot's chair. "Truly, you have!"

She strapped herself in, and noticed that the navicomputer was already blinking ready, so at least it seemed to be running at normal processing speed. "We're jumping, one-quarter on agreed heading," she acknowledged. "Three, two, one..." She punched the lever.

The hyperdrive kicked on with a whine and the blinking stars before them pulled out to stripes… to a blurring light – one second, two, three – only to fade back to blinking dots as the whine of the hyperdrive went over the edge and died out.

The ship let out a moanful sound, reverberated… and shut down completely.

The only light was the muted glow from the stars outside the viewports, the only sounds Mara's own wildly throbbing heart and Deena's sob, muffled but desperate beside her.

. . .

Mara got to her feet and stared into the dark space around them, surveying it in every direction the transparisteel allowed.

"We're going to die here," Deena sobbed. "We're going to die and nobody will ever know what has happened."

"Nonsense," Mara muttered. She couldn't see the Star Destroyer anywhere, and that gave some sort of hope that they'd gotten far enough away to be out its sensors too. "Of course they'll find us. And we have food enough for weeks." She left out the question of who would find them – it probably would not matter to her. To Deena however, the difference would be very big.

A dark thought strafed her mind; what would the blond Etti-girl do if she found out who Mara truly was? Mara knew she would be able to save her friend's life – but would Deena accept generosity from an enemy? Force knew how that blonde head worked sometimes…

But Mara wasn't prepared to contact her Master yet. There was still the possibility that she would be able to kick life into the engines somehow, and besides, Skywalker at least knew their course, if not where on the way they had been stranded. And then there was that Interdictor. If the Imperial commander of it was hungry enough for prey he might start sniffing around too.

Mara patted Deena's shoulder comfortingly. "Your friend Luke will save us, I'm sure. In a few minutes he will have found out that we're not where we should be and then he'll come looking for us."

"So what?" Deena whimpered. "There's a quarter of a lightyear between where we started and where we should have been! He can't comb that area in a twinkling."

"True," Mara admitted, "but remember that he's got the Force. C'mon. We have work to do."

For a moment she wondered quietly why she felt almost comforted by her own words, then she pushed the question from her mind to concentrate on what was ahead of her. "C'mon," she repeated, glancing at the corpses strewn around the bridge deck. "We need to get these people someplace else. I only like treading on people who can kick back."

. . .

It took Mara and Deena several minutes and a serious effort to move all bodies from the Bridge into the captain's compartment where they'd be most efficiently out of the way. The task wasn't made easier by the fact that the faint starlight was the only light source they had to begin with. Fortunately Mara found some glowrods in the drawers of Terk's quarters. She took them and raided the drawers of everything else useful to boot.

They were just trying to close the door when Deena's com cracked again. She snapped it up and on with more speed than Mara had ever seen her move. "Luke?"

"Deena! Thank the Force! Are you both ok?"

"Yes we are!" Deena shrieked jubilantly. "How did you find us?"

"I'll explain later. Hobbie should be on his way to get help by now. What's your situation?"

Deena opened her mouth to answer, then decided she had less of a grasp of the situation than her friend and closed it again. She handed the com over to Mara with a little sigh. "You explain."

Mara grabbed it. "Jade here. The ship's completely gone out. We're down to glowrods, I don't even have emergency lighting. I don't know whether the main power core has broken down completely or whether it's only damaged, I was just about to go and find out. I'm afraid you can't do much else than stay out there and keep watch."

"Negative. I'm coming over."

"You're what?"

"I'm almost there already. I'll dock in a moment."

"Skywalker, the docking bay is stuffed to the brim with containers – as are both the holds! Where are you intending to dock?"

"On the outside," came the calm answer. "I'll connect with the hull in…" a shudder shook the ship. "There. And I can see the hatch from here. I'll be there in two shakes."

"Wait! We can't open the hatches from here. We'll have to do it manually at the spot. And you'll need a vac suit… You have a vac suit?"

"I have the Force," Skywalker retorted levelly. "And don't worry about the hatches" – his voice grew distant – "I think I can sense them from here. But you can come my way if you want to. See you in a moment. Skywalker out."

"Skywalker…!" Mara shouted, but the com was silent. She cursed and glanced at Deena who was looking at her with a bizarrely cute expression of worry. "He'd better not get himself killed. We could really need him in the next few hours," Mara growled.

"Where's that hatch?" Deena wondered.

"At the ship's underbelly – if I remember correctly," Mara muttered. "Damn Jedi. He could have told us that too."

"But Mara, he's trying to help…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Let's go."

. . .

They hadn't even reached the lowest deck when Skywalker and his droid met them in the pitch-black corridor, though devil knew how they had gotten through the hatches. He cried out softly in greeting and Deena responded with a yell – and when the light from the glowrod caught him a moment later she spurted towards him and threw herself into his embrace.

"Luke!" she cried, "oh Luke!" She hung around the Jedi's neck. Mara was surprised how calmly he took it. Was it Deena who has special access to these kind of things or was it just that he so clearly knew that she only needed comfort?

"Hey," he soothed. "We'll work it out. Soon we'll be home."

"I was so frightened," Deena explained, finally pulling away, tears soaking her cheeks. "I thought we'd be lost here – or that the Imps would find us. But Mara here, she didn't doubt for a second. 'Luke will save us,' she told me. 'He has the Force and he'll come back for us,' she said - and you did!"

Mara shifted uncomfortably at the Jedi's curious glance. "Well, you had our course, didn't you?" she grunted. "And I figured that leaving comrades behind was a very un-Jedi-like thing to do. Now are you two going to cuddle there all day or can we start taping this slag heap back together?" The astromech droid beeped his agreement with that suggestion.

Skywalker sighed quietly. "You're right, we better get moving. Feeling better Dee?" He squeezed her shoulder. "Listen, we need someone to keep watch and communicate, and at the moment that's only possible from my X-wing. Deena, can you take that job?"

Deena opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again. "Sure, Luke. I suppose Artoo can do a far better job than me with the ship here."

"Artoo can do a better job with this ship than any of us," he corrected her mildly. "But give it a few hours and your job's going to get harder than you think. Stay alert. We're not far away from that Interdictor and if it starts searching for us…"

Deena nodded, face grave. "I understand."

"Great. Let's get you into a vac suit, then. You'll have to climb into my fighter manually." He turned to Mara. "You can take Artoo and start working. Take him to the main power core and see what he can do. As soon as he's plugged in, he'll be able to tell you where you should start."

"Wonderful," Mara replied dryly, leaving the ignominy of being degraded to taking orders from a droid uncommented. "My hydrospanner was already beginning to itch. C'mon, tincan." She turned, and together with the rolling beeper, started towards the aft of the freighter.

T.B.C.


	30. Chapter 30

Due to summer vacation you get this a bit early - but in exchange it's a bit longer :D

Again, my humble thanks to readers and reviewers and my eternal gratitude to amazing **frodogenic**!

* * *

**Quagmire - Chapter 30**

**Shipwrecked**

Well down by the power core, Mara was actually glad to have the tin can there to lend a mechanical hand. Skywalker had added a small display to it where she could read its instructions and she had to admit that the little fellow seemed to know what he was beeping about.

"Yeah, I know we need to fetch the reserve power cells," Mara replied impatiently. "But they're big and heavy and I'll need a transporter to do that. There should be one in the rear hold, though. I just haven't had time to go fetch it."

The astromech whistled soothingly, then launched a quick string of chirps. Mara glanced at the readout and sighed. "Yeah, you're probably right – that's just the job for Skywalker. I'll start with the reactor, then."

The droid twittered an affirmative and Mara switched on her com. "Skywalker? Your droid has orders for you. Before you get here you need to pick up the reserve power cells. You can reach them along the aftbound corridor one deck up."

"Okay," came the level answer. "See you shortly."

Mara made a face as she switched off the com. Wonderful. Now she'd be all alone with Luke Skywalker – for the next several hours if they were lucky. A perfect opportunity to seduce him out of his Jedi senses...except some tiny wee details, like the fact that the bowels of a collapsed main reactor on a totally blacked-out hulk of a ship on the brink of falling apart was the least romantic scenario she could imagine, or the stripes of grease she had probably gotten all over herself while crawling around busted machinery, or that the man had just been burned by another red-haired knockout Imperial spy trying to seduce him. And hadn't Solo more or less insinuated that Skywalker wasn't too happy with the girl taking initiative? Mentally shaking her head, Mara wriggled beneath coolant and fuel lines towards the reactor. Her Master had made it sound like things would happen whether she lifted a finger or not but Mara couldn't see the Jedi throwing himself at her. There was a tension between them, no doubt about that – but Skywalker wasn't one to act on random attractions. Particularly not right after that disastrous fiasco with Brie, who by the way could go kriff herself in a stinking pool of Hutt slime on –

She cut off the thought with a scowl. Just because she disliked Brie didn't mean she had license to blame all the frustrations of her mission on the woman. The truth was, Mara had no clue how to break the stagnation either. She had gradually tried to change her attitude towards the Jedi but there was still a long way ahead.

Or was she wrong altogether? Maybe she should give the Force the benefit of the doubt? Her Master has said that Skywalker would love her next. Perhaps she should simply relax and see what would happen?

_You know what will happen, Jade. Fracking nothing. You know him by now._

She was still debating with herself when Skywalker appeared with the power cells. His entrance was spectacular enough to bring her out of her musings; first came the power cells, majestically floating through air, and behind them the Jedi, eyes half closed in concentration. Mara straightened up and stood hands on hips when his eyes fluttered open to meet her quizzical glance.

"Darned if your tin can here wasn't right," she admitted. "That was handy."

The R2 unit beeped indignantly, perhaps offended that she spoke to Skywalker over its dome but Mara ignored it. "Can you insert them with the Force too?" she asked. "I sure could use a bit more light than these glowrods."

"I can," Skywalker replied, and started to maneuver the powercells in place with frowning concentration, "but I have a distinct feeling that some of them are damaged. We'll have to economize, at least until we know how far the power will stretch. And to be honest I think it's more important that we get the ship and the shields going than more light."

"So it's back to shields, then," Mara mused. "Not to be petty, but earlier you insisted it was the hyperdrive that needed to be fixed first."

Luke waited with replying until the last powercell was in place. "I'd say the situation is different now," he asserted. "Hobbie's on his way for help and we're not under attack, at least not at the moment. Besides, we won't have full power whatever we do, so I don't think we'll be able to fix the hyperdrive. As things are, I'd go for sublight engines and shields so we can dodge that SD if it appears."

Mara sighed. "I suppose."

Luke turned his head, gave her a wary glance. "You disagree?"

"No. If I did, I'd say so."

He smiled tentatively. "That's what I figured."

She glanced up and the smile grew between them. An odd warmth spread inside her, whether of excitement or something else she did not quite now. But Skywalker broke the glance, turning to the engines instead. "All right. Tell me how far you've come."

The next couple of hours they worked in deep concentration, only speaking when they exchanged necessary information or stumbled into a problem. But the silence between them was almost comfortable. Mara realized that at least the Jedi was completely confident in her competence. And she had to admit herself that she couldn't have wished for a better partner. If not for the scarce light that limited her view and the awareness of their still-precarious situation she'd actually have been rather pleased with the arrangement. And if not for the knowledge that her mission required her to seduce him – and soon – and that she still didn't know what aproach to take. It bugged at the back of her mind but at least she was able to hold it right there.

After a few hours the com cracked and Deena demanded a status. "Actually, I'm not quite sure," Luke told her. "You never know with power systems. One minute everything looks good and the next you find a whole resistor section is melted down, but at least we're doing our best here." He flashed Mara a grin. "How are _you_ doing, Dee?"

"I could kill for a caf," came the reply. "Why don't you have a brewer in this fighter of yours? Couldn't it come in handy once in a while?"

Luke chuckled. "Believe it or not, but Wes raised heaven and hell once to install a caf brewer in his craft. He even installed a cup holder with straw on his helmet so he could use both hands for flying. Then we got called out when a TIE patrol ran into the fleet, and on the first maneuver all that caf poured over him – and it must still have been hot 'cos I've never heard him swear so juicily. And his flightsuit was completely soaked when he landed. It must have been a month before Wedge and Tycho stopped bringing it up every time they saw a cup of caf…"

Deena snickered and Mara grinned too. "Ok, just wondering. But if you get the caf automats working, remember me, ok?" Deena told him

"We will," Luke promised and shut the com again. He leaned back to stretch his back and glanced at Mara. "I wish she hadn't said that about a caf. Now I'm dying for one myself."

She gave him a wry grin. "Want to try to redirect power to an automat for the next ten minutes?"

He gave her a grin and a shrug – and returned to his work, leaving Mara to stare at his back, her smile already fading.

She returned to her job too, but the situation was beginning to get on her nerves now. She was alone with the man, in half dark, both depending completely on each other. How often would she get an opportunity like this?

Attacking the next shot capacitor unit with her pliers, she ran possible new opening lines through her head, but they all seemed constructed. She shot a glance over her shoulder. _Skywalker will love you next._ Yeah, right! How was that going to happen when even starting a conversation seemed unnatural? The man was _working_ – principled and guiltless and infuriatingly guileless. Oh, she knew him so well by now –. nothing would happen – not now, not later - unless she provoked it to. For a stimulating moment, she considered outright grabbing his rear – at least that would provoke a reaction!

The stupid thing was, she had so many things she really wanted to ask him, wanted to know. Why had he turned to the Rebellion in the first place? When had he found out about his Jedi abilities? How had he learned to wield them? And even more personal ones: what was it like to fly with the Rogues? Mara was pretty sure he'd answer awesome but she'd like to hear it from his own lips. She could have asked about Deena, about Brie, about his obvious qualms about taking the Jedi mantle – but it would all turn so damned personal…

No, what she needed was to seduce him nice and easy – and get pregnant as her Master had foreseen. The last thought sent a jolt of discomfort through her but she pushed it aside – _one thing at a time, Jade. And _don't _get emotional_.

Going through her usual arsenal of seduction techniques didn't help. _Hold his eyes longer than necessary_ – well, that would have been easier if he wasn't turning his back to her all the time. And defintely easier if it wasn't nearly pitch dark. _Show skin_ – she was wearing a coverall, dammit! _Find a common area to talk about and share your experiences from _– well, they had the collapsed reactor, but she'd been trying to start a conversation about that for two hours now without any success. _Play hard to get_ – Skywalker was already doing that better than she ever could. _Complement him_ – she'd made at least seventy-five percent of her male targets eat from her hand with that one alone, but Skywalker was different; he'd just get uncomfortable. _Flirt?_ The man _never_ flirted. _Joke_ – he'd laugh – ha ha - and that would be all. _Let him help you_? Hmmm… The Jedi _did_ have a considerable, protective streak…

Attacking a bolt with ferocity, Mara let the hydrospanner slide. It pulled her hand with it violently against the bulkhead, squeezing her finger hard enough for her to let out a yelp that wasn't fake. Bringing her finger to her mouth to suck where it had been jammed, Mara tasted iron and understood that she was bleeding. _Dammit, Jade, watch it! No bigger damage – not now..._

"Are you all right?" Skywalker turned, and Mara tried to get hold of her annoyance. Chaos take the man - _and_ her orders – why the hell couldn't he drool over her just like every other humanoid male did?

"I'm terrific," she growled. "I've only been half electrocuted, chased and shot at - and spent the rest of the day loading containers and dragging dead bodies. Why do you even ask?"

Skywalker chuckled and closed in, taking her hand into to examine her finger. Mara felt a new beat of energy. Hey – he'd actually laughed at that? All right, joking - first step to flirting. Maybe this wasn't completely hopeless?

Skywalker studied her finger. "Does it hurt?"

Closing in ever so little, Mara could see there was hardly any bleeding. She needed to play this as well as possible but acting an airhead was hardly the way to impress the Jedi. "Yeah, a little…" She brough her head near the finger, squinting to see in the bleak light of the glowrod. "Is it bleeding?"

"A little." He reached for his belt. "I have a medpack…"

Mara accepted Skywalker to clean the wound and give it a small compress. Under normal circumstances she'd sooner have cut off the finger than let anybody treat her for a pathetic little cut, but anything for the cause... Watching his fingers move over her hand, though, something else completely began to well up – a heaviness pouring into her body, sending strange ripples up her stomach and drying her mouth. She tried to clear her mind but it felt alarmingly numb, she tried to say something clever, something funny to pursue the flirtation but neither head nor throat was obeying. As Skywalker attached the last seal tab her eyes fluttered up – met his…

And time stopped.

So did Mara's heart - or at least she felt so. For an instant it was like she was naked before him, her shields down, mind and feelings exposed, her secrets unhidden, all of her open and suddenly shivering before him. Except that he too was open, just as she – Mara felt like she could see deep down into all of him, his fears, his hopes, his…

She gasped, backing up – and so did he. By some superhuman effort Mara slammed her shields down, cutting him out before the knowledge had time to sharpen into more than emotions and hazy shadows – and could sense Skywalker do the same.

_What are you doing, Jade, you idiot? You're supposed to_ seduce _him – not back_ away _from him_! Almost jolting back closer to Skywalker, Mara grabbed his arm – but he was stepping away, putting distance between them and the arm she grabbed was rising as a shield between them.

"Wha… wait," Mara panted, trying to establish the contact again. While the Force revealed a tangle of powerful and unruly emotions from Skywalker, his face was composed again, as was his voice.

"Forgive me," he said. "That was uncalled for."

"_Forgive_ you?" Mara repeated incredulously. "What _was_ that?" At the back of her head she realized that to make the Jedi speculate about her abilities in the Force maybe wasn't the best thing to do, but she couldn't care about that now.

Skywalker, however, only looked embarrased. "I don't know, Mara. I swear I didn't want to offend you. It just happened." He pulled free of her grip. "Look, I think we should get back to work. That Star Destroyer is probably still looking for us and…"

Mara shook her head fiercly. "Drok it! That's… that's an excuse. And a bad one." She reached for his arm again but he was backpedalling both physically and mentally. "C'mon. Admit it!" she pushed. "You're attracted to me!"

He backed a step more, then stopped, obviously forcing himself to make a stand. For a moment he looked intently at her but the former mental fireworks failed to appear. Instead, Skywalker seemed to regain his composure more every second. When he spoke, he was on complete control again, voice plain, like was he speaking about the weather. "Of course I am. So what?"

_Huttspit, Jedi! You're not backing off this_! Mara had to force her voice to remain calm, tried to add a husky tone to it. "And this is a perfect opportunity to take it further; Deena on your X-wing, you and me alone here…"

The astromech blew an indignant raspberry but both Mara and Skywalker ignored it, the latter seeming to only dig his heels in deeper by her words. "That… that wasn't what I had in mind. Not at all. I came here to help."

His tone was final and Mara could have smacked herself for letting this chance slip through her fingers! Anger rose in her, incontrollable and red. "Funny. But you know what it sounds like to me?" she growled. "To me, it sounds like you're just making up excuses for not getting involved again."

Skywalker had started to fiddle with wires again but now brought back his attention to her. "Not at all," he told her flatly. "That was _your_ attitude, remember?"

And he was right, of course. She remembered far too well their discussion concerning attachments, just before he went on that mission with Brie. Back then, Mara had been the one on the top. Now, however… "Well, at least I don't consider myself too precious for one night stands!" she snarled.

Skywalker snapped for breath, revealing she'd got in an unexpected blow. "Consider …? Wait a minute!" He glared at her but Mara wasn't about to let him start talking sense.

"Or maybe your last girlfriend had the clue how to break though to you?" she went on. "She sure chased you for months before anything happened. If _that_'s the kind of encouragement you need…"

"Well, I'm flattered you've given the matter so much thought," Skywalker interrupted her, anger audible now. "But what hasn't occurred to you is that maybe I have my reasons!"

"Yeah? Like what?" Mara demanded.

"For not hitting on you?" Skywalker stalled, obviously trying to regain his composure. "Well, you told me you never sleep with the same man twice. Maybe I don't want to be one in the succession?"

Mara snorted, not ready to bury the battle ax at all. "Really, farmboy, your idealization of cosy relationships is priceless."

"And when have I debated my ideas on relationships with you?" he countered heatedly.

"You don't have to," she snapped. "It shines out from everything you say and do"

He narrowed his eyes. "And are you telling me now that was why you lectured me the other day how Jedi shouldn't favour attachments?"

"C'mon. Remain unattached? You?" Mara snorted, forgetting completely that the exact opposite had been her point just before. "You couldn't avoid attaching yourself even if you were locked up in a cupboard, Skywalker. Look at you! You even chit-chat with your droid! Lock you away in a ship for a few days and you'd attach to its computer."

"Well, we obviously live in two different galaxies, Jade," he shot back. "But please, keep yours, by all means, I don't want in there. Maybe you think I'm so Outer Rim, but in my eyes you're near to hysterically afraid of acknowledging any sort of attachment to other people. I don't think I've ever met someone who was so terrified of showing even the tiniest affection."

Mara nearly lost her speech. "_Hysterical_?"

Skywalker crossed his arms. "What else should I call it? And now we're speaking plainly, Jade, let me make this clear. We might be down this hatch just the two of us alone, it might be dark and you might be very fanciable in that hand-tailored coverall, but I'm _not_ going to make any advances – not here, not now, certainly not before we get away from this ship and probably not any time later either – unless you change that attitude!"

Mara gaped. How could he know that she had adjusted her coveralls to fit her better? _Brie again!_ "Well, that's rich," she snorted. "All of that coming from the man who's stopped most often to chat when I've been standing by the B-wings, only my butt visible."

He flinched. "I haven't… Look, I've been trying to make you feel welcome -"

"And obviously used the opportunity to oogle my afterburners!"

"I've _not_ been _oogling_ –"

"Well, go on, use a nicer word," Mara snorted. "I know exactly what you've been thinking. And I can tell you, my fine friend, that you're not a _bit_ different from – "

Her danger sense went ballistic and the second after the com started to sound. Before Mara even had finished her sentence the ship rocked violently and she was hurled headlong into the opposite bulkhead. She gasped and reached out for something to steady herself but the only thing she could grip was Skywalker's fatigues. Another hit shook the ship and she clung to the Jedi for dear life. Skywalker, however, didn't have anything to hold on to either so the next jerk sent him to the floor, taking Mara with him.

"What was that?" Mara panted, gasping for air; Skywalker weighed heavily on her belly.

"Imperials for sure," Luke growled. "I _told_ you the SD was still out there." He started to push up but the ship lurched again and knocked him off his hands back onto her. Artoo warbled hysterically. The com beeped.

"That was a sudden change of heart, Jedi," Mara wheezed, trying to wriggle free. Skywalker jerked as much with indignation as with the effort to get up.

"Don't get any delusions," he snapped. "I didn't _plan_ to land on you."

Mara resisted a sudden wild urge to laugh. Here they were, attacked and helplessly caught in a crippled ship, yet they were fighting about whether he'd made a move or not.

"Well, even if you had, I think it would be the least of my problems right now," she countered. "I – _shavit_!" The ship had jolted yet again, hammering her head into a protruding piece of pipe.

Luke finally came free of the tangled mass of arms and legs that he and Mara had managed to form and rolled to his back. "Why the devil hasn't Deena… Dee?" He switched on the com. "Are you all right?"

"Luke! I couldn't find you frequency!" Deena's voice was a piercing squeak.

"What's going on?" Luke demanded. He grabbed the pipe Mara had rammed her head on a moment earlier and holding on to it in case the ship should take another hit, he started to rise.

"Pirates," Deena moaned. "At least I think so. It's a light freighter. They're comming us and demanding we stand down or they'll blast us to atoms. They say they're going to board us."

Luke glanced at Mara who'd gotten to her feet. "Pirates? Where the hell did they came from?"

"They could have been hanging around the interdiction field looking for wreckage," Mara muttered. "It wouldn't be the first time some of their kind did a thing like that. They must have guessed that we foundered. Maybe they even tapped our communications during the fight?"

Luke stifled a curse. The ship was still again; at least for the moment the pirates had ceased firing.

"Luke? I still haven't answered. What should I tell them?" Deena weiled.

Skywalker seemed to take a decision. "Nothing," he told her into the com. "Don't make any sound or move whatsoever. Even try to _sit_ still. We'll get you Artoo and you'll leave, both of you." He winked to the droid and started to jog down the passageway, the astromech obediently in his tail. Mara stood a few moments mouth open and stared after them, then got moving and rushed after them.

"I can't fly an X-wing!" Deena yapped. "Besides, I can't leave you two here and…"

"Artoo can fly it," Skywalker dismissed. "And I'm not asking here, Deena, I'm sorry. It's an order. You're leaving. We can't let my fighter fall into pirates' hands. And Artoo's too valuable to risk too. If something happens… Deena, I need you to take him to Leia and…"

Luke voice hoarsened as he stopped dead. Mara barrelled into him from behind… "Dammit, Jade, watch it!" he growled.

"How am I supposed to see in the dark here? Why did you stop?" she complained.

He took a deep breath. "I… never mind. Dee, just take him to Leia, ok?" Cursing silently at his own, melodramatic reaction Luke took a decision. He would _not_ die here. Not like this – and not today. He would be there to tell Leia himself. He still needed to face his father, he still had a fate to challenge. Today, bring it what may, didn't even count.

. . .

It didn't take them long to reach the docking bay, mostly because Luke realized the turbolift wasn't working, halted halfway and simply lightsabered a hole through the deck to the hangar under them. After jumping down himself, he levered Mara and Artoo down using the Force, carefully avoiding the hard edges of the the tightly loaded durasteel containers. He was a little surprised that Jade seemed to take this method of transportation with equanimity, but on second thought it only confirmed what a puzzle the woman was. She definitely had a knack of surprising him and often obviously even without trying. Impossible, irritating, and downright infuriating she might be, but when the ground burned she fortunately seemed to know how to put that aside.

They crossed the deck by jumping from the top of one container to the other - Artoo, of course needed a helping Force push – until they came to the small corridor that led to the airlock hatch Luke had entered through. Luke jumped straight down and then repeated the Force trick with Mara and Artoo. Just when they reached the hatch, behind which Deena loomed in the X-wing, a thud and a hollow sound alerted them that _Borrowed Beauty_ had made contact with another bulk.

"What now?" Mara demanded.

"I just need a moment," Luke announced and dropped down, crossing his legs under him.

Mara stared at the Jedi who closed his eyes and the next moment he was gone, his mind drifting away from her perception like smoke in a breeze. "Terrific," she muttered to herself. "The pirates are boarding us and this is the moment he decides to go mystic." She bent down to snap the com from Skywalker's hand. "Deena?"

"Mara? How are you?" Deena's voice came back. As they spoke, the inner hatch hissed open and Artoo rolled in, twittering his dissatisfaction with escape plans that involved leaving his master behind.

"Never better," Mara grunted. "Look, we'll do fine here. When the pirates come we'll just pluck them. Then we'll snatch their freighter and come after you – or something like that. You just make sure you get away quickly so we don't have to worry about you, ok?" The interior hatch closed behind the astromech and Mara heard the hissing of vacuum as the outer hatch opened.

"Ok…" came the wavering answer. "I just feel really bad, leaving you! If Luke hadn't ordered me I never would…."

"I know. But don't you worry. We'll be fine," Mara assured with much more confidence in her voice than she actually felt. Space pirates came in many shapes but some of them were seriously tough nails. She could only hope these weren't the cream of the crop. "And you heard him. The fighter's what counts here. If I'd been the one in the cockpit, it would be me who'd have to fly away."

She listened carefully while speaking. She could hear nothing now. Apparently the pirates where coming through an upper hatch, which would put them on the opposite side of the ship from Deena. That was good at least.

"Ooh!"

"What?" Mara snapped in alarm. "What's up, Deena?"

"Oh, it's just that I can see Artoo come floating towards me. Gosh, he looks really funny like that." Deena let out a small giggle and Mara rolled her eyes.

"You see? Skywalker's invincible Jedi powers. We'll be fine here."

The seconds turned to a few very long minutes before Deena finally acknowledged lift off. All her acting and irony despite, Mara felt better when her friend was away. It seemed like the astromech could indeed fly the craft and they didn't have to jump to hyperspace for Mara to know they'd be safe; an X-wing could outrun a light freighter anytime, and there were no sounds indicating that she was being followed; surely the pirates knew the same thing.

Skywalker was still cross-legged but his eyelids started to flutter now, and for some reason Mara got the impression that he was mapping the movement of the pirates. At least that was whe she'd do in his place.

"So?" she demanded, when he opened his eyes. "What next, Commander? It looks like the pirates have started at the brigde and by now they have probably discovered that it's deserted. Do we have a plan?"

The Jedi rose in one smooth movement without even moving his legs first. "There are twelve of them. Four have stayed behind in the ship, the rest are at top level, starting to move down."

"And our plan? Mara demanded unimpressed.

"I'll go and talk to them."

"Talk?"

"Talk. Then we see what happens."

Mara sighed in exasperation. She should have known Skywalker would insist on being civilized, even when he was dealing with vermin. "You _do_ understand you'll be dealing with the worst sort of riff-raff imaginable?"

He shrugged. "They deserve a chance too."

"Very noble of you. But this is not an open hangar and you won't be able to move as efficiently as you did the other day. And they might be very good."

"I know."

Mara sighed again. "Ok, let's go then."

Skywalker frowned. "I meant, _I'll_ go. You'll stay here."

She snorted. "And what? Cross my fingers? Perhaps send a little prayer to some deity that could the Force be victorious, pretty please? No thanks! If we succeed, we have a better chance with me along. If we don't, I'd rather die fighting than wait for them to find me here and end up sold as sex slave to some fat, fourth rate gangster boss in Outer Rim."

He faltered at that. "You don't know if they would…"

"Oh, they would all right," she told him, unfazed. "And I'd bring in a Huttload of credits too."

His gaze flickered down her appearance and obviously brought him to the same conclusion. Still, he made a last futile effort, "But you're unarmed, and I only have my lightsaber…"

"Which is very stupid of you," Mara riposted. "A lightsaber might be a Jedi's weapon but a blaster has its advantages too. And there are models that should be concealable enough, even for a Jedi's demands of discretion. This, for example." She pulled her Czerka 411 hold-out blaster from her sleeve.

Luke's mouth dropped. "Since when do you carry _that_ around?"

Mara tilted her head. "Are you telling me techs aren't allowed to carry guns?"

"I'm telling you techs _normally_ don't carry guns."

"Then I suppose the vibroblade I've hidden on me is pretty unconventional too."

Luke couldn't quite hold back a grin but he still tried to protest. "That gun won't get you far in a fight – it only has six shoots."

Mara shrugged. "Like you said to Klivian, that will bring us half way. Just so long as you take care of _your_ half."

Despite his still apparent protectiveness and sense of duty Mara could tell she had already won several points in his eyes. "I know what you're thinking now, Skywalker," she told him. "You're thinking, where the devil did she hide a gun _and_ a knife under that tightly tailored coverall? Ok, here's the deal; you accept my help – I spare you the embarrassing details and let _you_ take initative if you want to know the answer to that question. All right?"

Luke sighed tiredly. "All right. But don't tell me I didn't warn you."

. . .

They were halfway back to the upper level when Luke suddenly called out.

*Wait. Stop.*

Mara froze for a second then pivoted around. "What?"

His eyes narrowed as he studied her scrutinizingly. "I didn't say anything."

"Sure you did, you said…" The terror of what she had just let slip filled her completely for a moment – his voice had been in her _head_ – and she had reacted to it without blinking, revealing how used she was to getting orders through the Force…! Then Mara kicked her paralyzed brain into action again. No, no, it wasn't that bad, Skywalker didn't know, he didn't _know_ the reason why she hadn't even blinked at his telepathic message. She could smooth it, surely…

"You spoke in my head!" she stated.

"I did. I used the Force," he replied evenly, still studying her.

Mara pressed out a snort. "I can figure _that_ much out, flyboy. _Now._ But I didn't realize it when you did it. It was like... like you were just speaking close to me."

He didn't lose that examining look but he didn't seem hostile either. "Right… But can you tell the difference if I do it again?"

"I… yes. I think so."

*Like this?*

"Yes. That was in my head." She did her best to appear mystified.

"Good. Next time I speak to you like that I want you to do exactly as I say – and immediately, unless I tell you otherwise. Can you promise me that?"

She nodded, eager to agree to anything as long as she could avoid suspicion. "Sure. And I can see it might come in handy."

They continued along the passageway, all senses alert, well aware that they might run into the boarders any moment now. Mara forced her thudding heart to calm down. Whatever had been Skywalker's reason for testing her, she had run into his cunning little trap headfirst. Despite that, it seemed like he hadn't lost his confidence in her, or at least that he trusted her to hold his side against the pirates. That was something. Mara took a deep, soundless breath. Her mission was - and had been since the _Millenium Falcon_ – first of all to gain Skywalker's trust, and apparently she had succeeded in that, so far. If they could get out of this alive she would someway or another have cemented that she was worthy of that trust too.

A thud sounded through the passageway and they both froze. Skywalker shut off his glowrod and after a second's hesitation Mara did the same, just as she heard him open his mouth to tell her to do so.

"Do you think we could hide somewhere? Maybe let them pass us? If we could continue to the Command Deck and take out the rest in small groups we could steal their ship," she murmured.

"Maybe," he breathed back, "but then we'd risk losing this freighterful of containers – and after all that was what we made the entire trip for, right? Where's your gun?"

"In my hand, of course."

"Holster it. It will still be easy for you to get, won't it?"

"Mh." Mara wasn't happy to meet the pirates with a holstered gun but she did as he told her. She had no doubt that the blasted Jedi still had some insane idea that he might be able to talk the filthy cretins down, and while the attempt was of course doomed to fail, she had no intention of letting him get anything but his will at the moment. He had just barely agreed to let her come with him, now she'd prove to him that he'd done the right thing.

Another thud resounded and Luke reached out his hand to touch Mara's shoulder lightly. Without a word, he guided her to a protruding bulkhead, leaving her covered partly by it and partly by his own body, pressed tightly to hers. Mara bit her tongue not to let out some obscene comment. It wasn't the time for distractions; the Jedi had his attention solely on what was happening at the end of the passageway. Low voices sounded, footsteps, then the hiss of a hatch opening and suddenly a sharp light cut into the corridor.

Mara blinked towards it, glad they had shut off their glowrods only moments ago. Skywalker didn't seem to have similar problems. Probably he was using the Force. Pupil control, another fancy discipline in Jedi school, Mara suspected a bit wryly. Skywalker's warm breath tickled her ear.

She turned her attention back to the rough voices and discerned the forms of a handful of humanoids. First was a Gotal – easily recognizable by his height and the twin conical horns on the top of his head. By his side was a slim humanoid wearing a broad brimmed hat, only his facial tattoos under the brim revealing him as a Zabrak. Behind them came what must be the six other sentients that Skywalker had claimed had moved into the ship, and – Mara stifled a curse – an IG-88 assassin droid. They had an opponent more than they'd counted for – and a deadly one at that.

That was as far as she got in her reflection because Skywalker took a deep breath and stepped into the light, hands raised reassuringly. Nine muzzles focused on him immediately and two of the pirates fired. One of the shots was clearly a warning shot because it went well pass the Jedi, but the other would have pierced his chest unless he'd made a quick twist to avoid it. The bolt just grazed his flightsuit, leaving a smudged scorch.

"Don't shoot," Luke called and once again Mara marvelled at the calm he could present when needed. His only weakness really seemed to be those few soft personal spots she was already sporting on.

"Don't move kid, or we'll roast you where you stand," came the harsh reply. "Are you the only survivor?"

Mara raised her voice before the Jedi could get any stupid ideas of protecting her. "No. We're two." She made sure her voice was well into the soprano range.

As she stepped into the light, hands raised before her, a rude laugh escaped the pirates. "Well, well, well… Look what we've got here!"

Luke frowned and Mara hurried to project all the calm and control she was able to ooze into the Force. She wanted the Jedi to be able to pull through his plan, whatever it was, and then help him when it failed, thus showing herself invaluable. That wouldn't work if she appeared a porcelain doll who needed to be protected from scrapes. She batted her eyes energically, knowing Skywalker would recognize it as fake. "You're not going to shoot us, are you?" she wondered, willing her voice to tremble ever so little.

The Zabrac smiled, a very unpleasant smile but probably intended to be reassuring. "Not at all, little lady. Not if you behave yourself and do as we say."

Luke let out a little sigh. He knew Mara was putting on her little show entirely to put the pirates off guard. Unfortunately that didn't exactly gain his own plan, which was to make them face realities and back off willingly. Quite the opposite. The more he and Mara appeared as a kid and a bimbo, the less chance there was they would actually be able to avoid bloodshed. On the other hand, the more he could sense from these guys, the more he realized that they probably wouldn't negotiate anyway. Well, he owed them the chance, at least.

"We're two left," he pointed out, "but it's only a question of time. A comrade of ours set out for help hours ago and when he returns he'll have the capacity to transport this ship and effortlessly blast yours to atoms if needed. I suggest you either leave us be and go about your own business or give us a hand to get this ship going again. If you do the latter I'm sure we can find a suitable compensation."

A human male, a thickset swarthy guy, let out an amused laugh. "Listen to him, boys! We have a krething diplomat on our hands!."

The rest of the sentients – seven males of varied species but all sturdy like himself or tall and wiry – grinned maliciously.

"All wise and sound advice, I'm sure, kid," the Zabrak taunted, "but not one we're interested to follow. We'd much rather take what we can from this old wreck and then slip off to hyperspace. But thank you for that interesting little snippet of information you just gave us. I'm sure that Star Destroyer a quart parsec away will be interested in knowing that a bunch of Rebel ships will arrive here shortly."

Luke gritted his teeth. "They won't stay here long enough to get caught, so the information you'd sell would be worthless. And the Imperials tend to have long memories. In your place, I'd reconsider that strategy. As far as taking what you can, there isn't much to get here unless you have a very large cargo capacity; the only thing this ship is carrying is dismantled containers. And as you've probably noticed by now, the ship itself is hardly worth stealing."

The Zabrac grinned. "Ah, don't worry, I already found me a nice little compensation prize." He reached out his hand to lay it on Mara's shoulder. "This little lady will bring in a nice sum when we reach Hutt Space. And of course there might be others, willing to pay even more. Red hair on a little dish like this is always in demand."

Mara could sense the Jedi's alarm and did her best to emanate calm. Still, no worry was audible in Skywalker's voice when he replied. "If you knew her like I do you'd drop that plan too. No way you'll get her to keep quiet while you try to trade."

Mara shot him a glower but kept quiet. The others laughed, though. She had recognized the species of the rest of them now, despite the flickering lights of the glowrods. One was a Duros, one Trandoshan, two were Aqualish while the fifth, she suspected, was a Farghul.

"Listen to that!," the burly man howled. "The diplomat's handin' out business advice! Don't fret, squirt, we have methods of dealing with noisy ladies that you wouldn't even like to think of." He laid a hand on Mara's arm and pulled her towards him.

Luke glanced at Mara in alarm but could to his relief sense that she was a rock of confidence. He wondered briefly how she could keep that cool in a situation like this but quickly left the question, focusing on the realities instead.

*_Wait_,* he sent to Mara. *_They expect resistance now. Let them relax. In a sec_…*

The moment came only seconds later but not because Mara relaxed. One of the Aqualish stepped to her and reached out for her left lower arm – which was where she had her blaster strapped to her arm. As it was, she had only a nanosecond to act, and act she did.

As the Aqualish reached out for her arm she grabbed his, propelling herself into him with full power. Seeing no particular weak point in his padded leather carapace and unable to move properly, surrounded by the pirates as she was, she went for the lowest weak point that most males had. The Aqualish doubled over with a muffled sound but Mara was already sidestepping, using the space he opened and grabbing the arm of the next man to send him down with a tug, a twist of her hip and an elbow neatly but effectively placed behind his chin. As she pivoted around she already had her blaster ready in hand. Simultaneously she recognized the snap-hiss of an igniting lightsaber.

There were shouts and a clawed hand grabbed for her blasterarm, but Mara was quicker and shot the Farghul in the chest before he could get a grip good enough to prevent her targeting. From the corner of her eye she registered Luke's lightsaber cut through two weapons aimed at her in a blur of green laser. The pirates recoiled and fell back with surprising speed. Mara blasted the droid and would have continued, had Luke not moved up quickly to cover her. She held back at that, suddenly discerning that effective killing probably went against all Skywalker's magnanimous ideas of Jedihood.

Within seconds, there were several meters between them; Luke and Mara on one hand, the remaining pirates on the other, the two Aqualish getting back to their feet. Mara stifled a curse. Good or not, she doubted that Skywalker could take out seven weapons firing at the same time. Not when he had her to protect as well.

"Drop your weapons," the Zabrak growled. "We're seven. You don't stand a chance."

"Oh, I think our chances are still better with weapons than without," Mara snorted, pushing her doubts aside. "And my friend the Jedi here can send back every shot you fire up in your faces too. I'd say it's _you_ who better lose the hardware."

"Jedi?" the Gotal murmured. "Did she say Jedi?"

"Yeah, he's got a lightsaber all right," the Human muttered, clearly worried, but the Zabrak laughed.

"You fracking _women_! I can't believe you're letting that little filly scare you! Well, none of you has ever faced Jedi before, but I have – and here I am, still. They aren't invincible and if you know how to take them, they're as easy as anyone else."

His hand moved quickly to a panel on his arm. Luke instantly backed, pushing Mara with him, fearing for some unknown devilry, but all that happened was that an energy shield appeared between them and the pirates with a swooshing sound. Mara squinted in the dark and noticed a heavy pack on the Zabrak's back, surely the source of the shield.

The alien laughed. "Unexpected hindrance, Jedi? _If_ you're a Jedi, that is. To me, you look like a half-grown kid."

When neither Luke or Mara answered, both momentarily hesitant by this new direction of events, he turned to his comrades. "What are you waiting for, boys? Get them!"

*_Back_! *

The order exploded in Mara's head. Seven weapons fired as one while she and Luke backpedalled wildly down the passageway, Luke's lightsaber whipping furiously, too quickly for eye to follow. Half forgetting, half abandoning all caution, Mara instinctively melted into his mind, sensing his movements, opening her own mind to his awareness to allow him to protect her as well as possible. They retreated like one, hip to hip, foot to foot, Luke's body covering Mara's from the incoming shots and his saber covering his own.

Withing seconds they were out of reach of the glowrods and the shots thinned out, Luke's lightsaber now the only thing that gave their position away in the dark corridor. The pirates hadn't moved but the Zabrak was shouting orders and Mara knew it wouldn't be long. She pulled at Luke's arm. "Shut it down!" she breathed, "– and run!"

She sensed his hesitation but he followed her suggestion. They retreated as quickly as they dared in the pitch-black darkness and Mara desperately held out her hand wondering when she'd run straight into a bulkhead. She could remember that the corridor made a sharp turn and…

"Here," Luke whispered, tugging her arm. "The turn is now." They rounded the corner and set up speed, Mara in the lead. She dared to run at maximum pace now, knowing they had a long corridor before they'd run into a crosscoming bulkhead. What they needed was to find a place where they could catch their breaths and make a new plan. They still had the advantage that Skywalker could sense the pirates, while their enemy wouldn't be able to spot them. Unless they had sensors, of course. They had to have some back at their ship, if they returned to get them…? Then her danger sense went mad again and she glared around in alarm. There was nothing to spot in the thick darkness and all she could hear was Luke's and her own running feet and their jerky breaths. "What –"

She didn't get further. The floor gave way under her feet and she plunged down, too late remembering the hole that Luke had cut in the floor when they had hurried to get to Deena.

T.B.C.


	31. Chapter 31

**Quagmire - Chapter 31**

**Collaborators**

As she slid, Mara desperately tried to get hold of something – anything – but all she could grasp was the edges of the gap which were as smooth as the floor. Just as she gave up on catching herself and started to brace for the drop, something grabbed her arm. The yank was hard; she yelped in pain, convinced that her shoulder had been wrenched out of its socket. Like a ragdoll she swung in air, only her wrists still above the gap, the black pit of the docking bay and the sharp durasteel edges of the containers lurking under her. It took her several seconds to understand first, that it was Luke's hand that had prevented her fall and secondly, that his grip was completely firm and that there was no way he'd let her fall.

"It's ok," he told her, voice an urgent grunt. "You're safe."

"Your concept of 'safe' isn't quite the same as mine, Skywalker," Mara panted. Despite that, relief washed over her, and dangling though she was, she felt saved already. She experienced a strange gratitude that it was Skywalker of all people who had her back for this one, Skywalker with his Jedi powers, his invaluably cool, clear mind and right now, most important of all, his inexhaustible prosthetic hand. Then she became aware that if the pirates caught up with him she'd be in a hot place again despite all that, and she grabbed his hand with her left one too. "What are you waiting for?" she gasped. "Pull me up! Quckly!"

The Jedi's face and torso appeared in the hole as he lighted his glowrod. "Negative. We need to go down."

Mara stared at him for a few unbelieving seconds, then remembered that she'd been lowered down this same way already once today. "Oh," she muttered, reluctantly. "Fine. But move it before we've got company."

"Oh, we have a minute at least, they're still working on their plan of action," Luke assured. He gave his arm a twist that set her swinging, slowly at first then more wildly. "I'm going to toss you onto a container and then ease your landing with the Force," he explained. "Let go of my hand and let me guide you."

Suppressing the nervous surge in her stomach best she could, Mara did as he said. Luke started to swing his arm, sweeping her in a broader and broader arc, then all at once he let go and Mara sailed through the air. The mix between safe reliance and complete insecurity was almost exhilarating and she gasped for air, heart hammering so hard it almost hurt to breathe. Then something, the Force no doubt, enveloped her in a steady hold again and the next instant her feet hit hard metal.

Glancing upwards, she could see Luke already easing himself down their improvised hatch, glowrod between his teeth. He dropped through, hanging to the lip of the gap by his fingers, swung back and forth a few times to get up momentum, and seconds later he sailed through air too, landing a few containers away from her. Mara pulled out her own glowrod and switched it on. "You're full of fantastic ideas. What now?" she wondered dryly.

"Sec…" he murmued, completely concentrated. From the metallic scraping coming from above, Mara realized that he was pulling the cutout piece of decking in place to conceal the hole they'd made.

"Wicked," she muttered. "And when one of those bulgy pirates steps on it he'll be following us here, only with no Jedi to ease his fall. I didn't know you had that in you, Skywalker."

He didn't answer. Probably he hadn't quite heard her. But then, that hadn't exactly been her intention either. A moment later, the glowrod came jumping towards her in short sprints and mighty leaps and then Luke was at her side again, frowning in consideration. "Are you ok?" he wondered. "How's your arm?"

Mara grimaced and rubbed it shortly. "It works. Next question."

He sighed. "Ok, you tough nut, forget that I asked. Let's get down on the deck and see what things look like from there."

No plan yet, then, Mara deduced, but she followed him without complaints, skirting from container to container, finally easing themselves down where Luke suggested, which was close to the airlock they had sent Artoo out through. There the fearless leader called a halt and stubbornly ran a glowrod and a critical eye down her arms and spine.

Mara sighed. "Nothing broken," she told him a bit impatiently. "Nothing dislocated either. Rather miraculously."

Luke only frowned and touched her arm. His fingers came back tipped in bright red. "What happened here?"

Mara glanced down in surprise and realized her right arm was covered in blood. "It must have been when that Farghul tried to grab my blaster. But it can't be deep. Honestly, I hadn't even noticed."

He gave her a dry glance but nodded reluctantly. It wasn't as though they had the time to tend to the wound anyway. "Do you remember how many entrances there are to this bay?" he asked instead.

"The turbolift," Mara replied instantly. She always knew where every conventional entrance was for any location she found herself, and planned a few unconventional ones to boot, though admittedly dropping six meters from the ceiling hadn't been one of them. "Which isn't working now. And there's at least one emergency stair in the aft end. Probably there's one towards the stem too. Why? Are you thinking of blocking the passages somehow?"

Luke nodded slowly, his face showing he was locating the pirates with the Force again. Mara frowned. "We'd better hurry then, they'll be here any minute. How do we do it?"

"I thought of using the containers," Luke explained. "But we're not in a hurry. After all, there's little point in locking them _out_."

She stared at him, trying to make sense of him. "Then what? You want to lock them_ in_?"

He smiled congenially. "Exactly."

Finally it dawned to Mara and a wicked smile spread on her face. "Ah! And in order to get us out you're going to use…"

She was interrupted by a noise from above. The loose plate that Luke had shifted back in place came clattering down together with one of the pirates. His terrified scream cut off as he hit a durasteel container and seconds later came the dull thud of a limp body hitting the floor. Evidently a straight-line fall ended right on a container corner.

Mara subconsciously flinched at the sounds and she could see Luke do the same. There came voices from the upper deck and they both hurried to turn out their glowrods. As they waited in the dark Luke leaned in, his mouth almost tickling Mara's ear. "I guess I'd better remember to bevel my holes from now on," he murmured.

Mara suppressed a sudden, inept urge to giggle. "And to put the cut-out parts back where you took them," she breathed back.

He snorted. Then they both ducked under cover as a blaster appeared in the gap and poured laser randomly out over the Docking Bay. None of the shots hit even near, but it was plain that the loss of another comrade hadn't gone over well with the remaining pirates. Then the blaster disappeared and a hard thud of running boots overhead told Mara and Luke that they could expect company any moment.

Luke straightened. "We better secure the entrance to the turbolift in case they crawl down the shaft."

Mara nodded and they sprinted along the bulkhead, running single file in the access alley between the wall and the containers. Unfortunately, the lift was on the other end of the bay and when they arrived Luke was clearly tense. "They're almost here already," he muttered. "And we're near the stair where they'll be coming from."

"This won't take any time," Mara assured. She lifted her blaster and setting it on weakest power she practically melted the control panel of the turbolift away.

Luke, who had switched his glowrod out with his lightsaber by now, lifted it to inspect the destruction. "Perfect. No way anyone can open _that_!"

Mara was inspecting her blaster. "I'm not only good in fixing stuff, I'm even better smashing it. Bet you didn't know that about me."

He let out a small laugh. "I didn't, but I should have suspected. Something wrong with your blaster?"

"It only has six shots and I've used three already. I have an extra power pack in my belt though. Do you think I should change it now or save it?"

"Save it. They still have their shield. Those extra six won't help you before we meet the rest of the crew."

Mara frowned, then reached down for the extra pack and reloaded anyway.

Luke tilted his head. "Why do you ask for advice when you're so set on following your own mind?"

"You weren't convincing enough," Mara retorted. "Shouldn't we be moving? I seem to recall somebody worrying that they'd be here any sec – "

Just as she spoke, she heard a muffled sound and caught her breath. Luke was already looking in the direction of the sound, clearly having no problems knowing exactly where their opponents were. He slowly lifted his saber in defense position, still without igniting it, and Mara hurried to click off her glowrod, hoping it wasn't too late to disappear in the darkness…

Hell broke loose again.

Luke's lightsaber flared to life and Mara ducked for cover behind his back, cursing her own impotence. Still, with only six shots to go and a portable shield between her and her targets she might as well keep her head down. The shield, however, brought in a drawback for the enemy too, as it forced the pirates to attack from one direction only. Not that anything else would have been possible in the narrow corridor anyway. Mind running high-voltage about how to turn this to an advantage, Mara squinted against the irregular bursts of light from the pouring lasers, trying to discern which of the pirates were left.

Suddenly something grabbed her and hauled her off her feet, hurtling upward through midair. She screamed and fought with arms and legs but whatever it was pulled her straight up notwithstanding. Not before her feet contacted solidly with durasteel did she realize it was Skywalker who had yanked her to safety up on the container using the Force. For a few seconds Mara fumed, then noticed the advantages of her new position. Even though the pirates might have seen her been hauled up, they wouldn't be able to shoot her as soon as she was away from the angle – and the fact that they had't tried yet, suggested that they hadn't seen her in the near pitch-black darkness. Which meant that she might be able to get behind them – and that shield was only hemispherical...

Quick as the thought, Mara raced a few meters away from the fight, until she was absolutely sure she was out of view angle. Hunching down, she lit her glowrod on minumum and started running the length of the container, half bent and light at her feet. She trotted down two containers which was, judging from the origin of the flashing red lasers to her left, far enough to get her behind the attackers. Then she shut down the glowrod and started moving quickly towards the other edge of the container.

*_Mara! What are you doing_?* came Luke's worried thought in her head but Mara had no exact response. She tried to picture her movement in her head and hoped the Jedi followed the plan, realizing that she might get hit by one of the bolts he deflected if he didn't. Dropping to her belly, she leaned out over the edge of the container. Six silhouettes flickered against the intermittent laser light, their leader the Zabrak, unfortunately standing in front, almost covered by his pals. But so what, she had six fresh shots, enough for them all… Mara levered herself on a knee and lifted her gun, taking careful aim…

And the lights went on.

Everyone in the room started and yelped at the sudden assault on their pupils. For a few seconds the fight froze. Luke used the Force to force his uncollaborating eyes to see again and the first thing he saw was Mara, kneeling on a container a short distance away just behind the enemy. Startled, he pulled his eyes away – but too late. The Gotal had already followed his gaze. Wasting no time on shouting the pirate swung his gun up and fired.

The blast passed Mara close enough to burn her hair. Still squinting she changed her target and let the Force guide her arm. She pulled the trigger and the Gotal dropped. Now all the pirates aimed at her though, and Mara dropped onto the durasteel, rolling away from the fire, cursing wildly. Her great opportunity was wasted and there were still five pirates left!

A dull thump made her look up. Luke had made a leap up on the containers and now came running towards her. *_Move! Get back to the hole_!* he ordered through the Force and Mara gritted her teeth and rolled a few meters more, then got to her feet and started to run towards the hole they'd cut in the ceiling.

"What about the stairs?" she hissed. "You have to block them now, before they even start to thinking about getting out!"

He only nodded and stopped dead, closing his eyes again. Mara watched in fascination as his face frowned to a curl, fingers streched out and hands likewise, tensing against an unseen pressure. Then she heard rumbling and scraping sounds, from the stern first and a few moments later from the bow. Then Luke opened his eyes and blinked. Mara stared at him. "Was that it?"

He nodded. "It wasn't that hard. I only had to move two container blocks a few meters each. They were both very close to the stair hatches."

"Not that hard?" Mara squeaked. "Those container blocks weigh tons apiece!"

He shook his head, impatiently. "Size matters not. It was actually much harder to visualize how I had to move them than to do it. But it's time to leave, I think. Ready?"

Luckily Mara was prepared for mostly anything by now, because Luke didn't wait for her confirmation. The strange grip enveloped her again, not for the quick haul she had expected but more softly and thoroughly for a steady lift several meters.

For a second Mara wondered whether the pirates would try to fire towards her as she floated through air, then she caught sight of something much more alarming.

One of the pirates must have had a grappling wire because the Trandoshan was already standing on a container, a comrade on his way up beside him. The big reptilian didn't waste energy on Mara but aimed straight on Luke who was standing oblivious, eyes closed and hand stretched out as he guided her through air.

Mara lifted her gun and aimed in one movement. The blast reverberated through the bay, rattling durasteel, and the Trandoshan dropped. She didn't stop there but started pouring laser at the next alien who was just rising to stand where he'd been. The pirate threw himself headlong beside his fallen comrade and started to answer her fire but by then Mara was already reaching the hole and a second later she was standing both feet on upper deck again. She immediately threw herself on her stomach, realizing that only her suppressive fire would keep Luke out of their crosshairs. Hardly had she dropped, however, before the Jedi emerged through the hole to land safely at her side.

He gave her a surprised look. "Taking a nap?"

"I… unh…" Mara stiffled an annoyed curse. She felt suddenly very stupid in her belief that Skywalker would need any help. Everything in the past hours had happened very quickly and their positions changed so fast and so many times that she for a moment didn't know whether she was supposed to have the upper hand or the opposite; was actually making a fool out of herself. She got to her feet, quickly and uncomfortably close to the Jedi. "Just checking."

"You thought I needed help?"

He looked at her with those kind, blue eyes and Mara found herself retreating mentally. "No, well, yeah. Just in case you did."

"Actually, I think you just saved my life down there. Thanks."

And so she had, she reminded herself. If she hadn't killed the Trandoshan, Skywalker would have been dead meat by now.

"No need," she muttered. "If I'd let him have you, you had probably dropped me."

He arched his eyebrows at that. "Probably," he agreed tentatively, clearly not sure about to what extent she was joking.

Mara moved a few paces away, eyes still awkwardly on the gap in the floor. "Nice leap by the way," she conversed. "How high can you jump?"

"I have no idea, I've never measured. But I figured I could manage this at least."

She gave him an almost accusing glance. "_Figured_! So your great escape plan was based on a premise you had no idea whether would work or not? You might just as well have jumped short and had to stay down there!"

He shrugged. "Yeah, well, but it worked. And I knew I could get _you_ out."

"It was still a lamentable plan, Skywalker," Mara growled. "As pitiful as that stupid game you were playing in the rancor pit."

"At some occasion you should sit down with Leia and discuss me and bad escape plans," Luke replied dryly. "That should keep you entertained for a couple weeks. Now, if you're done gibing at me, I suggest we hurry to the Bridge. There are still four pirates left on free foot."

Mara grumbled but followed him effortlessly as he broke into a short jog through the corridor. At least they had lights this time.

"Don't you think some of them must have gone to the Power Core?" she wondered as they run. "How could the light have turned on otherwise?"

"I'd bet on repair droids," he replied. "The others are still up top, I'm sure of that. But whether they're on the bridge or still in their own ship I can't tell, not yet."

Mara chewed on that for a while, finding the explanation acceptable. Then another thought struck her. "You haven't tried any mindtricks at any point when we've been dealing with those guys? Why not? Send them all off on their merry little brainwashed way."

"They were too many and all set on the same thing. None of them was weakminded either, so I figured there wasn't much point in trying."

"There wasn't much point in trying to talk to them, either," Mara pointed out. "You can't go one giving everybody all those chances – or you'll lose your own."

He actually slowed at that and turned to face her, that grave earnesty in his expression that she knew so well by now. "But Mara, if I as Jedi don't show decency, then who does?"

Mara glared at him, then, having no immediately suitable answer, rolled her eyes and picked up speed again. "Right," she muttered. "I start to understand why the Jedi weren't allowed to attach – it left too many widows and orphans."

He didn't reply and after a moment she had to continue, not finished with her ranting yet. "You know, Skywalker, you give the impression of being so accomodating but when the poodoo hits the turbofan you will have nothing but your own way. That's pretty devious."

"Oh, I listen all right," he retorted lightly. His presence in the Force flashed sudden mischief. "You just weren't convincing enough."

That closed her mouth long enough for them to reach to the last hatch before the bridge and Mara had to concentrate on practical matters, changing the now empty powerpack of her blaster back to the one with three shots loft. "You should have snatched me a bigger gun from one of those pirates," she muttered. "I'm nearly out with this one."

Skywalker didn't reply so she looked Jedi stood rigid, eyes wandring the bulkhead before him but obviously concentrating on what was going on behind it.

"Are they behind it?" Mara whispered, gun up and ready again.

"No…" His low answer died away as a loud sound gave away that something was happening outside the hull. Mara's eyes widened.

"They're…"

"Leaving, yes, "Luke muttered. "But I don't get it. Their friends are still on this ship ad I get no impression from their minds that they are fleeing. More like anger and annoyance…"

"Kark! They've still got comlinks down in the bay, don't they? And if the others aren't leaving it must mean that they…" Mara gasped as the truth dawned to her. "The hatch! They're going to use the bottom hatch, just like we did to get you in and Artoo out!"

"Blast!" For a few seconds Luke lost his temper and hammered his hand into his fist. "I forgot it completely! I could just as well have sealed that one off as well!" He turned to glare at her angrily. "_Now_ you can chew me out for bad escape plans!"

"I can think of more useful things, actually," Mara replied, palming open the hatch to the Bridge. "As soon as they've picked up their pals they'll come back on us with all they've got. They're angry, and now they know there's nothing but empty containers in this hulk so greed won't hold them back. And our shields are still down…"

Luke hurried to the controls. "Perhaps not. After all we repaired on this bucket for several hours – amnd there's been droids on the job too, we might be able to…"

Mara shook he head. "Always the optimist, Skywalker." She slid into the pilot's chair and started to feather the controls, grimacing at the unwelcome sense of déjà-vu.

"Will you stop groaning about my attitudes? I'm still alive, in case you haven't noticed. And since I'm the trained pilot, that's _my_ chair." Luke gave her a push to move to the co-pilot's chair.

"Fine, fly-boy, but even _you_ can't fly a ship without power," Mara snapped back, moving only reluctantly and not before Luke actually started moving his torso forcibly into the chair.

"Oh, we have power. At least a bit of it," he replied, not managing to sound very convincing. His hand flew over the controls and to Mara's astonishment, a few of them actually flickered to life.

"See?" Luke breathed, not admitting out loud that he was as surprised as she was. "Could you put the light out again?"

Mara obeyed immediately but didn't miss the change of wrying. "Why? Sudden hankering for a romantic moment by starlight?"

"Sure," he deadpanned. "The fact that we need to save all the precious energy we can, doesn't count a bit. Neither does that fact that darkness may slow down those guys who're trying to get out of the airlock and thus buy us more time. All I can think of right now is those things you and I can do, all alone here in the darkness."

"I _knew_ you were as pervy as the other bastards, Jedi-boy," Mara muttered, eyes on the instrument panel. "Yes!" The last came when the sublight motors unexpectedly kicked on with a cough, shaking the entire ship with it.

"Told you, didn't I? Can you get some power to the shields too?"

"Not yet. Try to see if you can fly away from their freighter before it gets a chance to attach to the hatch."

"Point."

Luke's hands danced over the control board and Mara gasped when the ship reacted to his touch, swinging out and starting to move. "Yes! Go on!" she urged, eyes shining. If they could get this old bulk going while they still had the rest of the pirates in storage, maybe their comrades would be reluctant to fire.

"You like that, huh?" Luke murmured, face closed in concentration. "And you call _me_ pervy?"

The ship shook and rocked but slowly, slowly, the roar of the engines increased. Luke and Mara both worked frenetically as an ever increasing amount of the controls flared to life again. Mara got to her feet. "I'll check the hyperdrive station. If we can…"

"Wait!" There was an alarm in Luke's voice that made her halt, already halfway out of the cockpit.

"What?" Mara followed his gaze and could see the pirate's light freighter in the window, making a loop – and turn back on them.

"They're angry now," Luke muttered, "Shields, shields... We need full power on stem shields, they're coming straight on us…"

Mara was on her way back to the co-pilots seat when the light freighter opened fire – straight at the bridge. The ship jerked under the hits, knocking her off her feet and onto her back as something barrelled into her, causing her to catch her breath.

It took her several seconds to realize it was Luke who had thrown himself on her and was now pressing her to the floor with all his might, explosions and electrical fires blazing around them, second time now today. She didn't scream this time, only cowered on the floor, hiding her face against Luke's throat, making herself as small as she could in the reliance that he was covering them both with some sort of Force shield but having no idea how much he could handle and for how long. And also knowing well that no Force powers could save them if the Bridge blew up completely.

But the attack blew over and Luke eased his hard grip on her. Mara too, dared to look up. Luke glanced back at her. "You ok?"

"Terrific! Never better! Now if we just can keep this ship from blowing up under us…"

"Ok, ok…" He got to his feet and gave her a hand up. Mara bounced up, ignoring the hand, and slightly annoyed that her agitation that prevented her from using this situation to her advantage. After all, she'd just had the Jedi as close as she could have wanted him, she should have kept her mission in mind and made some kind of a move, but she had been too excited…

Only, she couldn't help wondering, what had she been most excited about? The flying sparks and the risk of an explosion, or the sensation of Skywalker's hard body and firm grip around her, the scent of him under her breath and the sensation of the soft skin of his throat against her face? And what moment was this to think those kinds of thoughts at all?

"I think there went our chance of piloting this ship," Luke observed flatly.

Mara started again, annoyed with herself for her lack of focus again. Turning her attention to the control board, she saw exactly what Skywalker meant – the panel was dark again.

Luke run his hand through his hair. "Any good ideas?"

A movement outside the transparisteel window caught Mara's eye. "Not really. But there go our stowaway pirates in an escape pod – another thing we didn't think about."

Luke turned to follow the small metal container outside where the enemy freighter was already prepearing to haul in the pod. "You think that if we follow their example, they'd be so keen on getting you as goods that they'd try to haul us in too?"

Mara pursed her lips. "I doubt so. I think we managed to prove we're pretty tough to handle."

He nodded silently and Mara felt a strange resignation overtake her. Was this it? Were they going to die? Here? Now? She turned to look at the Jedi and realized she didn't think of him as an enemy anymore, hadn't for a long time. On the contrary, she couldn't have wished for a better comrade to die with.

Luke turned and saw Mara look at him intently, knowing instinctivly what she was thinking about. "We're not dead yet," he obejcted.

"No, but I think we're about to be," she replied quietly. Luke suddenly found himself bereft of words, not because of fear but rather the one, overwhelming thing he unexpectedly felt he needed to do, had to, if this indeed was his last few seconds left alive. Her eyes were so soulful, her lips so soft and all of her so utterly lovely. He had spent so much time denying that as well as her advantages, all the time reminding himself of how little he knew her, how confusing she was and how bad an idea it would be – now all of that seemed futile and spent. Leia, his father, his friends and commitments, they all were out of his power, Mara only was still alive and lovely and just inside his reach. He turned towards her and the moment dragged out, stretching like rubber as he closed in to her. Her eyes unfocused too, her head tilting slowly as if pulled by an unseen force…

And then both their eyes were caught by flying blasts on the outside again. As they both pivoted towards the windows they realized that the blasts weren't directed against them but against the freighter on the outside. Luke let out a yell and ran to the viewport, and as Mara followed she saw a ship emerge from the darkess behind them, then another, and another…

The pirate freighter, finished with picking up the escape pod, turned on spot and fled. "They did it, Mara!" Luke yelled, giving his relief and joy free vent. "_They did it_! He turned and pulled her in for a vehement hug.

Mara gasped, the situation having turned completely again in a nanosecond but a laugh rose in her throat and before she could control herself she hugged him back, laughter shaking her uncontrollably. "Well, I'll be damned…!" she sputtered.

Luke's com crackled and he pulled it out, a grin cracking his face from ear to ear. "Wedge dammit! Where have you been dawdling? You should have been here ages ago!"

"Quit complaining, sorehead, and start showing some gratitude instead. We just saved your pathetic excuse of an ass," came the reply. Behind the fighter in the viewpoint, a Corvette just pulled out of hyperspace.

"You got a problem with my ass, Antilles?" Mara shouted at the com, then dissolved into convulsions of laughter no doubt loud enough to be heard.

"Is that Mara Jade I hear? I'm delighted that _her_ shapely behind was rescued. If fact, that might have saved _my_ day."

"Consider it saved," Luke allowed. "But tell the corvette to hurry. I think those pirates went straight to the Imps who pulled us out in the first place. We'd better leave as quick as we can."

"Copy that," Wedge acknowledged.

Mara had gained control of herself again and so had Skywalker. The magic moment between them was gone with the danger and to be honest, she both regretted it and was relieved at the same time. Now that they obviously weren't going to die imminently, she wasn't quite sure how she would have reacted in case things had developed.

She took a deep breath, a question pressing itself on her. "By the way, Skywalker, I forgot to ask… how did you find us in the first place – after we made that failed microjump, I mean? We didn't exactly arrive where we should."

He stared out of the window. "I knew when you jumped – and then I sensed your shock. When I realized that you hadn't made it to the agreed co-ordinates I only had to reconstruct how long you'd been in lightspeed before you dropped out to have your approximate position. Besides, to tell the truth, you never were further away than that I could sense you all the time."

Mara chewed on this for a moment. "Well," she thought aloud. "Animals smell fear so I suppose that to a Jedi, Deena's terror must have been easy to pick up."

He didn't turn but spoke to the transparisteel window before them. "Actually Mara, it was you I sensed all the time."

. . .

A few hours later, a shuttle from the corvette towing _Borrowed Beauty_ and the X-wings came together in _Home One'_s main hangar. Wedge Antilles rushed towards them and before Mara could prevent him he had pulled her in for a giant hug and a loud kiss on the mouth.

She pulled back and tried to glower but wherever she was looking, all she could see was broad smiles. The joy and the warmth emanating from these people showed with all clarity the caring they felt for each other, a comradeship she involuntarily had become a part of. Mara retreated a little to lean towards a bulkhead, feeling a similar smile nestle onto her face as well. At least she was alive and well – and in the final analysis, they had managed pretty swell, her and Skywalker. Surely she could allow herself to rejoice over that?

Luke turned his head and saw her smile. A strange feeling of warmth spread in him. He had hardly ever seen her smile and never so easily. She had the most wonderful smile he'd ever seen.

"Commander?" A panting Mon Calamari OD appeared before him pulling him back to realities. "I was sent to tell you that the briefing with High Command started five minutes ago."

Luke sighed. From the rancor den into the sarlacc pit all over again. "Right. I'm coming."

T.B.C.


	32. Chapter 32

**Sorry for being late, everubody! RL has been incredibly Sithy and this last chapter needed some rework. Sorry also for not having replied to your reviews yet - I look forward to getting to it later today!**

**Ans as always, thanks to _frodo_ for her amazing work and honesty!**

* * *

**Quagmire – Chapter 32**

**Late visit**

Mara was in the Chaos when the news was broadcasted over _Home One_: the Empire was building a new Death Star, they were to attack it now before it became functional – and the Emperor himself was currently aboard to inspect it while the Imperial fleet was currently scattered around the galaxy. If dropped, a sheet of flimsi would have been heard in the mess as long as the broadcast lasted – exactly three seconds after, you could have brought in the Max Reebo Twelve and asked Joh Yowza to sing and no one had noticed, such was the uproar.

"Oh gods," Deena moaned. "Not again! Not so soon! I need a drink!"

"You'd better take it now and then stop," Tycho pointed out. "I bet my last Alderaan Ruge that we're going to Battle Readiness inside an hour."

"But since we're the ones attacking, it means at least twelve hours to General Quarters," Wes replied cheerfully. "That means three hours to drink, eight to sleep and one to get in shape before the call comes. Plenty of time."

Hobbie emptied his mug and sat in down on the table with a loud thump. "This will still be my last. Wouldn't miss a beat of this battle."

"Your second chance to fly against the Death Star, Hobbs," Thorben grinned. "I understand what you mean. Wouldn't miss it either, and _I_ wasn't even wallowing in the medbay on Yavin last time."

"Mh. And Wedge would never let me hear the end of it if I missed this." Hobbie shrugged lightly but his there was a grim angle to his smile and a strange glow in his eyes. "Just think about it," he murmured. "Palps is _on_ that thing!"

Tycho nodded solemnly. "If we can bring this through, this will be the start to the end of the Empire." He rose and nodded to the others, tailing Hobbie out.

Deena got hurriedly to her feet too, but a lot more pale than the others. "Ok, I _really_ need that drink!" She wove through the crowd towards the bar.

Mara was still sitting on her chair, stunned and speechless. The news were too dramatic, too horrendous for her to actually cope with immediately. A new _Death Star_! Why hadn't her Master told her? _Why_? And why build _another_ monstrous, murderous mastodon? Like had _one_ not been enough? Like had it not showed what devastation a thing like that could do in the wrong hands! Showed how vulnerable such inflated power was?

And what in the name of the merciful stars was she doing here? She, the Emperor's Hand, on a ship about to attack the Emperor personally - about to _participate_ in that! There was no way she could maintain her low profile, not anymore. She had to warn her Master! She had to sabotage the Rebel fighters! She was a trusted technician now, she could do that. She could damage the B- wings and maybe the X-wings too, and no one would know who'd done it before it was too late.

Shakily, she got to her feet and started to walk away but a hand on her arm stopped her. "Hey, Mara?" Thorben frowned. "Are you alright?"

A glance at his concerned face told her she might as well admit her state of mind. "Not quite," she told him, managing a smile. "Just like Deena said, this is a bit sudden – and I've hardly recovered from today yet. I think the best I can do is to get some sleep. Tomorrow I'll be fit for fight again."

"Right." Thorben let go of her arm with a supportive squeeze. "And since that better be literally, I hope you sleep really well."

Mara had to hold herself back not to run from the Chaos. She had to contact her Master! She elbowed herself through the streaming mass of people – everyone seemed to be out of their quarters, eager to discuss the news. Heart in her throat, she managed to find a public 'fresher and locked herself into the last stall on the row. Hardly had the door closed shut behind her before she kneeled and reached out with her mind. "_Master_!"

It took a while before he answered and when he did, she could tell from the sting of his annoyance that her timing couldn't have been more inconvenient. Well, that couldn't helped. "_I hear you, child. What news? I trust you have obtained the location of the Jedi Yod_a?"

Mara could have slapped herself. Darn! She had almost forgotten about that. And now it could seem it was too late. "_Not yet, Master. But I have important news. The Rebels know about the new Death Star – and they're going to attack! They also know_-"

"_That I'm inspecting it. Yes. I know_." The Emperor's voice in her mind was chilly. "_I went to considerable lengths to ensure that they obtained that information_."

It felt like her heart actually stopped for a second. "_Master_?"

"_The Rebel attack is no concern of yours, my Hand. Have you seduced Skywalker yet?"_

_"Not yet, Master, but_…"

The disapproval _from the Emperor was all too palpable._ "I suspected as much. But enough of that. You will contact me tomorrow when the Rebel fleet approaches."

Despite clearly having caught her Master on the wrong foot, Mara wasn't yielding yet. "_Master, shouldn't I sabotage the Rebel fighters? I can do it easily_."

"_You have unfulfilled tasks already, my Hand_," came the reply. "_If you want to please me, finish one of them first_."

With that, he broke the contact and Mara was alone. She stared at the fresher wall, trying to reclaim herself. He knew. Her Master already knew. He had even planted the information. That meant that he was out of danger. Unfortunately, it also meant that the Rebels – and by extension herself – were going into a trap. Mara closed her eyes, trying to shut out the nausea. She didn't care about herself, danger was nothing – but all these people who she'd learned to respect and grudgingly care about were another matter entirely.

She stayed in the fresher for a long time, and when she finally rose, her mind was grimly set. It was about time she learned her lesson. She'd befriended Rebels – and now she'd pay the price. She had no one to thank but herself. The Rebels were doomed and there was nothing she could do to change that, not without committing treason. Now she would get some sleep and tomorrow she'd make a final attempt to gain the information about Master Yoda. _Maybe, just maybe, Skywalker had visited his master on his last rogue trip – and in that case, the coordinates would be in the log of the_ Millennium Falcon. But there was no point trying to break into the ship now – the main hangar was beyond any doubt crowded with people at the moment. She would try early tomorrow. With determined steps, much more determined than she felt, she set course towards her cabin.

. . .

In the flurry following the breakup of the briefing, Luke managed to slip close to Han, placed a hand on the Corellian's shoulder. "Congratulations – general," he murmured lightly.

Solo almost started a little, then waved in dismissal. "Ah – that." He shrugged. "It's nothing. I just had to make sure they put someone sensible on that job."

"Sure," Luke agreed smugly. "And Leia looks happy too."

"Ah, well…" Han glanced to the Princess, talking to Ackbar and Madine and shining bright enough to light up a black hole, and his features softened a bit. "Yeah, she does."

She did indeed. And inwardly, Han had to make an effort not to show his elation. To think it was him, _him_ who called out that smile. A grin curled up the corners of his mouth too. Leia turned to smile at him and Han broke into an all-out lopsided smile, then realized that she wasn't beaming at him at all right now, but at Luke. And Luke smiled back of course. Again, Han started, noticing the deepfelt warmth in the kid's eyes - the unconcealed love.

_Love_…

Chewie had said something the other day, in that special, annoying way he sometimes had when he wanted to point something out but didn't feel Han was ready to hear it yet. Something about Luke and Leia… Something about them being so very similar…

And that was true, of course. They _were_ similar; both noble and self sacrificing, both idealists, both such kriffin' _good_ persons… Not scoundrels like some else. _Darn_… Han stifled an annoyed moan. He knew how much Luke cared for Leia - and so he'd been pleased when kid had found Shira to distract him. And when that little fling went flying into the Gundark nest, Han had started to hope that Luke would shift his interest over to Miss Technician First Class Jade – now _that_ was a pair. A dancer and a Jedi. Almost as good as a scoundrel and a princess…

But what if he was wrong? What if it wasn't opposites that worked out best? Han shifted on one foot uneasily.

Besides, Luke wasn't one to run from flower to flower pulling off petals. Han watched as Leia made her way to them, still glowing, and offering Luke the first hug. She pulled back slightly to look at him in puzzlement. "What is it?"

Luke shook his head almost reluctantly. "Ask me again some other time."

Leia shrugged and slipped into Han's armpit, rising on tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Hello - General." She winked approvingly. Beside them, Chewie let out an amused gurgle.

Han's spirits floated up again. Ok, maybe there was no alarm after all – and besides, there was no point getting jittery.

Out from the corner of his eyes he noticed someone approach and turning, he saw Lando stop a few steps away, hesitant to join the party. "Hey, pal, "Han jibed, boosting himself up again. "You thought I'd let you beat me? You're not the only one who can get promotions here."

Lando flashed a grin that didn't quite hide that he was slightly nervous. "I should have figured that one out. I admit that." He glanced at Leia and Chewie, still tentative.

Leia smiled and offered her hand. "Congratulations Lando! And I must admit that I wasn't as surprised about your promotion as _this_ scoundrel's." She nodded at Han. "After all, you were showing some respectable traits already when we met at Bespin."

Lando kissed her hand."You're too kind, Leia. Thank you!" He smiled grimly. "Of course, they weren't the only traits I had on display at the time. In my defense, Vader tends to bring out the worst in people..."

"Well, this might be your chance to pay back," Leia replied. "Vader was on the Death Star only days ago, overseeing the final stages of the construction. It's possible he's there still and we might get two mynochs in one shot." Her mouth hardened. "And you're not the only one who has a score to settle."

Han was just about to agree when he suddenly caught a glimpse of kid's face. _Shavit_! Luke had told him that Vader might be his father, but they hadn't had time to get back to that discussion after kid's return. What had thatYoda guy told him? To decide form the look of his face right now, the sudden strain and flash of pain in his eyes, Han could have bet Jabba's entire stock of spice that his worst fears had been confirmed. Frink! No matter what, the kid didn't deserve this. Didn't dserve that the worst homicidal maniac in the galaxy was his old man. Didn't deserve that when he finally found out his father was alive, then everyone he cared for would hate the man with a vengeance. Han's heart reached out for his friend and he was relieved when Leia crooked her free arm aroud Luke's. "Come on boys. Let's go to the mess and get something to eat. Just like in old times." She glanced smiling to Lando and added, "Only better. C'mon."

Luke hesitated. "There's something I need to do…"

Kid was hiding his previous reaction pretty well, but Han could tell he was still put out. "Leia's right," he growled. "Let's get something to eat. After that, I imagine we _all_ have stuff to do. But for a while, let's just krink that Death Star. Right? Krink the Death Star, krink Palpy, krink Vader – krink the whole kriffin' Empire. Food first. Hell, even bad guys need to eat."

That finally cracked a smile form Luke "Right," he amended. "But unlike them, we've got good company. Okay, I'm game."

. . .

Mara was preparing for the night when the door com chimed. Deena was still away and Mara suspected she might have to get up sometime during the night hours to cart her friend back to bed. That, of course, was only one more reason to get an early sleep. "Come in," she growled grudgingly and deactivated the door lock.

To her surprise it was Skywalker. He swept a quick glance over her appearance; her coverall was open to the waist but the tanktop underneath secured some decency.

"Can I come in?" he asked quietly.

Mara rose her eyebrows in surprise. "Sure. But Deena's out."

"Yeah, I know." He shrugged. "It was you I came to talk with anyway, so…"

"That right?" Mara's heart made a leap as she retired, sitting down on her bunk and gesturing for Skywalker to take a chair. She could think of several reasons why Skywalker wanted to see her alone and none of them made her particularly relaxed.

He had managed to reveal her as Force-sensitive aboard that freighter, and he had done it in such a sneaky way it indicated he'd been suspecting it for some time now. Mara couldn't figure out whether that was good for her – or bad. Either way he was bound to confront her with it at some point. Was that now?

Seating himself, Skywalker glanced to her arm. "How's your arm?"

Mara touched the light bandage. "Oh, fine. It was just a scratch. Just enough to make it bleed."

He gave her a faint smile. "Oh, right. Good."

Or was his motive entirely different? "_Jade, let me make this clear. I'm not going to make any advances – not here, not now, certainly not before we get away from this ship and probably not any time later either – unless you change that attitude_!" She hadn't exactly managed to move herself into a better position on the freighter and the defeat of his sharp rejection still burned. Still, hadn't he been close to kissing her when he'd thought all hope gone?

On the other hand, as soon as help arrived, he hadn't made even the shadow of a move to finish what he'd almost started. No, her Master had ordered her to seduce the man, but all objective indications were that she'd see Hutts cutting an Alderaanian waltz before she saw Luke Skywalker in her bed. Well, the Death Star wasn't built in a day.

"I was just about to go to bed," she informed him, when the Jedi failed to say anything further. "I don't know about you but I'm worn out after today. And I suppose tomorrow won't be better." She eyed him meaningfully.

He nodded quietly. "Tomorrow's a decisive day. To the Alliance, to the Empire – to the Galaxy." He fell silent, eyes to the floor, mind clearly troubled and on the day ahead.

Which meant that the reason for his visit couldn't be quite as compromising as she might have feared. Not as promising as some other images of it either. "Well," Mara shrugged. "Flying against a new Death Star must be pretty scary for most. But I guess that for you it's just going against another of the Empire's uninventive gadgets."

He glanced up at that, a short grin escaping him. "I think that if I dismissed the Empire's 'gadgets' that easily, I wouldn't be alive today. I don't think I can remember one victory that was won cheap." He fell silent again.

Mara gave him a close look. "You're thinking of how many will die tomorrow. That no matter who wins the battle, many of us will be dead when it's over."

He nodded, uneasy, eyes on the floor.

"You'll fly with the Rogues?" _Why even ask, Jade? Of course he'll_…

"No." He looked up, that sharpness about him again. "No, I won't. And you knew that, didn't you?"

Mara blinked. Had she? Picked it up subconsciously from Skywalker's mind? Sometimes she felt his mind was flowing so close to her own that she could almost feel them mix and mingle. But she couldn't tell _him_ that. Kriffing Jedi, she wanted him out – now!

"Of course I didn't," she denied mechanically, willing her voice to remain unconcerned. "How could I? Isn't all that kind of information confidential before a battle?" She got to her feet. "Well, this is all very interesting and I'm touched that you wanted to talk with me before the battle, but it has really been a hard day and I need to sleep. If you have anything further to say I suggest you say it, but if you excuse me I'm going to keep getting ready for bed."

He looked startled. "Of course. Go ahead, I…" He broke off and his eyes widened as Mara turned her back to him and unceremoniously pulled down her coverall and tugged off her tanktop, leaving her torso completely bare.

Relishing in the sense of his shock, Mara grinned wickedly to herself. "You have some special, secret undercover mission then?" she wondered, carefully keeping her voice casual while she reached for a clean top. "'Cos I suppose you won't be flying with some other squadron."

"Yes, no, I…" Luke had to fight to pull himself together. "I can't talk about it," he told her lamely but his own annoyance was rising now. Why was it that Mara Jade always managed to take the lead? He was a _Jedi_ for Edge's sake – he could remain in control! And control in this case meant that he needed to keep focus on why he'd come in the first place.

"And it wasn't what I came to talk about either," he pointed out, voice steadying. Mara had pulled the new top on and was now climbing out of the coveralls, leaving her in top and underwear before him. He'd seen her about as scantily clad before, of course, in her dancer's dress when they'd first met, but he had forgotten how exquisite and well-proportioned she was. She might not be as curvascious as Shira but the sweeping delicacy of her slender shape went straight to his abdomen. If he could have given himself any excuse - any excuse at all - he would have grabbed out and –

_Control!_ Master Yoda's voice screeched indignantly in his head. _You must learn control_! Luke concentrated on keeping his heartbeat and breathing even - and he could feel his self-control return. He would not give in to this pull. He'd learned his lesson with Shira, and while his gut feeling of Mara had always been a very different one, he still was in no position to give in to a casual attraction.

Maybe Mara sensed this because she turned to face him, impatience audible in her voice now. "So? What did you come to talk about then? Spill the beans."

For some reason her evident annoyance lightened Luke's mood, almost made him smile. Oh, she could stun him alright, make him stammer and stutter - but he could drive her just as mad when he didn't follow her well-practiced misleads. Luke found himself hoping that he would be able to return to this game of theirs when all of this was over, with his head clear and mind hopefully open. There was a lot to discover in Mara Jade... Still, that wasn't what he'd come for. He'd come because there was something he needed to find out, something that in the light of the failure with Shira he couldn't allow himself to neglect. Luke was sure now that Mara hid more than anyone suspected and he needed to know whether she posed some threat to the friends he would leave behind the following day. He went straight to the point.

"You're Force-sensitive, aren't you?" It was more a statement than a question.

"What?" She turned her eyes up sharply and there was only surprise to read in her face. Yet Luke could sense with no doubt whatsoever the immense fear that swept through her at his words. She was extremely skilled in hiding her emotions, but then, he already knew that. She was also, he supposed, as skilled in acting feelings she didn't feel. The difficulty was telling when she was acting and when she wasn't.

"You heard my voice in your head earlier today, and you didn't even blink. That's pretty revealing."

"I already told you," Mara retorted. "It was like you'd been speaking right behind me. I didn't realize you spoke with the Force before you pointed it out to me." She shrugged impatiently. "What is it that you're telling me? That I shouldn't be able to hear you? Well, maybe I am Force sensitive a bit."

"That last part is obvious," he told her. "But my point goes further. You already knew about the Force. Someone has trained you."

Her eyebrows went up. "Are you saying I'm some sort of Jedi now? I can assure you that comes as a complete surprise to me." Beneath the mockery he could still sense her alarm – shielded – but indubitable.

Luke shook his head, refusing to be drawn. "I've seldom sensed so much fright as I did when you realized you'd given yourself away. You wouldn't have reacted like that unless you'd been hiding something on purpose. Besides, you're actively hiding your emotions from me. I can sense that all the time we're talking."

Mara frantically searched for a counter-argument but couldn't find one. If she agreed to this, then his next question would be one she couldn't answer without lying point-blank – and he would sense that, she knew he would! To her surprise however, the Jedi didn't advance but continued to study her intently. For long ticking seconds they just stared at each other, weighing, probing. Skywalker's mind in the Force pressed on her, close like a breath to her neck and she knew that if she reached out for him, even the tiniest, she'd be drawn in, opening to him from the very pull of his strong presence. She steeled herself against it with all her might.

"What I don't understand, Mara," he told her, voice very soft, "is why you're so frightened. Why hide?"

There was no use denying her skills anymore but this was a ground Mara knew how to hold. "This wonders the last Jedi in the galaxy?" she countered sardonically. "I don't know whether you've noticed it, Skywalker, but you're pretty alone in your field. All your colleagues have been hunted down and killed during the past twenty years."

"So I've noticed," he countered dryly. "But that doesn't explain why you're hiding from _me_."

Mara straightened up. "No? How about this? I know that the moment you'd find out about my abilities you'd start asking questions – _private_ questions that I have no wish whatsoever to answer. You'd start to treat me differently, and that would lead other people to pay attention to this fact and cause _them_ to start asking questions too - either of me, or even worse, start talking between themselves. But just because I've been born with an ability and have learned a few tricks about how to use it, doesn't mean that I'm bound to go _all_ the way – or that I should throw myself into some sort of league with others sharing this ability."

"Are you telling me you have these skills but never considered developing them?" Luke asked incredulously.

"I can't see what it would do for me besides getting me into a hell of a lot more trouble," Mara snorted.

He seemed to consider that. "But you've received training at some point?"

Now started the quagmire. Mara looked away, careful not to lie but to reveal only so much in turn. She picked up the story she'd told Deena. "Only a little. I… I grew up with an old man who taught me most of what I know. He taught me a few Jedi tricks too."

Luke straightened at that, his curiosity piqued further. "Was he a Jedi?"

Mara shook her head. "I don't know what to call him, but I'm sure he wasn't a Jedi. He knew a lot of things and only told me a little of it. Had travelled the galaxy far and low. I suppose he picked up what he knew here and there on his travels." Skywalker had unconsciously spoken in past tense and she was careful to hold on to that. No need for him to know that this old man was still very much alive and in regular contact with her.

Luke sighed. Mara's defensive attitude seemed genuine enough and he couldn't exactly argue against her objections. In fact, he realized, he was doing now the exact thing she had claimed she'd been worrying about; asking her personal questions. But he couldn't quite let her go yet. "What did he teach you then? Please, Mara."

Mara scrutinized him for a moment, softening in spite of herself at his fierce, earnest hunger to learn, to improve, to soak up more skill anyway he could – the same traits her tutors had demanded of her. Besides, the main danger seemed to be drifting away and their exchange taking a safer turn. And wasn't that just Luke Skywalker? He came so close in spotting out what could kill him, yet he failed for the very goodness of his own heart. She suddenly felt very tired. Dropping down on the bed again she looked at her own hands, folding in her lap. There was so much she wanted to do or say and all of it - _all of it_ - was complicated and contradictory. And there seemed to be so very little she actually_ could_ do.

"Shielding. Sensing people's feelings. Foretell danger," she told him. "That's it, mostly. If I really, really, concentrate I can do a little telekinesis as well. I'm not very good at it but it _has_ saved my life a few times."

"It was you who pushed the lever that opened the hangar so Chewie and I could escape, wasn't it?"

Had he really figured that out too? Well, no point denying it either. Mara nodded.

Luke's eyes narrowed. "Why did you help me?"

She shrugged. "Why wouldn't I? I told you, I never believed in those rumours about you anyway."

Luke's tensions started to fall slack. Finally, the beginnings of an answer for what he'd come here for in the first place. Whatever Mara Jade was, she wasn't that hardened, uncomitted egoist she tried so hard to give the impression of. He didn't know why she played that role and while almost all his conscious impressions were contradictory, he could _sense_ her – and that made him believe her. "Thanks. I guess we'd have been in it pretty deep without your help."

"You're welcome. Besides, I think I owed you."

"Well, consider your debt paid, then," he smiled.

Mara gave him a pale smile back, the continued to study her hands. Her Master had ordered her to gain Skywalker's trust – well, now she had it. She had actually_ succeeded_ so far. Then why did she feel so bad? What was it with this man that constantly assailed her with guilt?

Luke contemplated the woman before him. While he had to face that he trusted her on many levels, he still had no idea about her background or her intentions. Still, something moved in him as he now looked at her, something that opened his mouth almost of itself, words forming only partly out of his conscious mind. "Mara, we're going to battle tomorrow, and I have no more idea of what will happen than anyone else has. Still, if we both survive this… would you…" He drew a deep breath. "Would you consider becoming my apprentice?"

Her head snapped up at that, eyes growing wide as bright green globes. "What –_ what_ did you say?"

Luke slipped out of his chair to crouch before her, taking he hands gently into his. "Look, Mara. I know that… all you've been telling me tonight has been speaking against it, but consider this. I had no reason to trust you either. I had no reason to believe you're faithful to anything or anybody but yourself. I never had any reason to even believe that you're friendly towards me or the Alliance. When we took you with us on Tatooine I just felt this nudge from the Force; that taking you with us was the right thing to do. And I've felt it so many times after that; you have more to give than you show or even know of yourself – and I feel it again, so very strongly. You have the Force, Mara. I don't think our meeting was a coincidence. I think it had a purpose and I think we should follow that road."

Green eyes met blue and the distance between them blurred away, Mara once again feeling herself floating against his presence, all ground helplessly gone. Only self-control kept her from drifting straight into his alluring mind and get lost. "I… don't think our meeting was a coincidence either," she murmured, swallowing hard. _Oh, Skywalker, if you knew_…

"Mara," he mumbled. "I… you have all the time you want or need to consider, but please do. Consider with open mind and heart, and then tell me your decision. Will you?"

Was that how it would happen? Would her Master be right? Skywalker would fall to darkness and she would become his apprentice, his mistress too maybe? Mara tried to imagine those blue earnest eyes turned yellow, covetous, self-possessed and she shuddered at the thought.

Instead she lowered her gaze to his hands, so real and palpable, still tender, still compassionate. She felt their touch, the right one slightly cooler than the left, yet both powerful, empathic… She turned them in hers, wondering for a moment how it would feel to slip them around her waist. Would he pull away now? The moment seemed endless, the opportunities infinite. She inhaled his male scent and remembered it from earlier today; a disturbing mix of fresh sweat and standard-issue soap. She wanted to run her fingers though that sandy mess of hair, wanted to feel those soft lips against hers... "Luke, I…"

A loud thump by the door interrupted her sentence as well as her thought. They both started and Luke frowned in puzzlement. "What the heck…"

Before he could finish, the door opened and Deena tumbled in, loudly giggling. After her, or rather, clinging tightly to her, followed a man, dark-haired with sloppy bangs, laughing sluggishly. They entered backs to Luke and Mara and didn't waste time looking around but instantly started to kiss and fumble each other.

Mara's jumped to her feet, her voice rising sharply "Well, excuse me!" Hands to her side she glared caustically at the couple who turned towards her, bewildered.

"Mara! Oh dear!" Deena slapped her hand to her mouth. "I had quite forgotten we're sharing the cabin now. OH! I'm so sorry!"

"No problem." Mara's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Do you want me to join or simply go out?"

"Hey babe, if you wanna join, I'm cool." The man fixed his stare at Mara under his bangs like he couldn't believe his luck.

Luke, still sitting behind Mara, cleared his throat loudly. Both Deena and Bangs jumped, only now discovering him and while Deena winced in new horror, her catch of the day smiled even wider. "Hey! I still don't mind. This looks like it's gonna be a re-ally hot night."

The first look on Skywalker's face was priceless, one Mara planned to remember for a very long time, but it quickly gave way to something entirely different. And as he rose, no one, not even the most intoxicated brain, could be oblivious to what was decent and what not. Disapproval practically poured into the mind of everyone present. Bangs hiccupped and took a staggering step backwards. "Hey, I just…"

Then self-reproach seemed to hit him. "I…didn't mean any harm. I just thought, since her fiancé was away and all, that the lady here needed some fun, really…" He swallowed. "Guess I was wrong. Uh, sorry."

He backpedalled out without further ceremonies.

Mara shot Luke an amused glance. "Tell me again why you didn't use the Force on _him_?"

Luke, however, concentrated solely on Deena. "Dee?"

She stood with lips trembling, tears welling up in her eyes. "Luke? I guess I screwed up again. Didn't I? Really good this time. I would have… I would have… Oh Force…!" Her face cracked completely and when Luke extended his hand she threw herself into his arms, burying her head against his chest, sobbing heartbreakingly.

Luke held her and gently stroke her hair, without really knowing what to say. While he could neither understand not approve of Deena's actions, he had no wish to throw stones at her either. He knew she'd thrown herself in the arms of casual men before when her self-esteem was low; he'd just believed she'd stopped with that behaviour after she'd met Corin. He glanced helplessly at Mara.

Mara watched Deena, a strange look in her green eyes; pity, indulgence, compassion; all of it in a swirling mix. But the softness when she looked at the sobbing blonde couldn't be missed. Luke swallowed a lump.

"Come now, Deen," Mara mumbled reaching out to Deena. "Told you it was a bad idea to drink when you were that exhausted, didn't I?"

Deena looked up, tears still running, but a poor smile broke out when she looked at her friend. "You…did." She sniffled. "I just… I just…"

"Hey. You'd have regretted that tomorrow, wouldn't you?" Mara stroked her friend's hair softly.

"I'm regretting it _already_!" Deena howled. "How could I? How could Corin ever…!"

Mara sighed quietly. "Deena, you didn't_ do_ anything!"

"Did so! I kissed him! And that was some kissing too! And of you two hadn't stopped me I would've…" She shook her head. "…would have…"

"Kriffed him. Well, yeah. Happens. But you didn't."

"But I kissed him!"

"Yeah, but kissing doesn't count." When Deena still looked doubtfull Mara turned to Luke. "Kissing doesn't count, does it Luke?"

"Uh, I..." He glanced awkwardly at her. "It depends on the kiss I guess…"

Mara shot him an angry glance. "Ok, a kiss _can_ count then, but most kissing doesn't. Only if your heart and mind is in it."

Deena frowned in confusion. "I dunno about my heart and mind but my body was certainly in it. But in that case, can't there be times when even a shag doesn't count? If neither heart or mind is in it? I mean, sometimes my body isn't even in it, I'm sure you know the feeling?"

"Ok, fine." Luke pushed Deena away and tried to rise. "I think it's time I leave you girls to compare experiences."

Mara rolled her eyes. "Calm down Jedi. We're not going to 'share experiences' here. Not tonight anyway. I'm going to sleep - and so's Deena."

But Deena reached out to cling desperately to Luke. "Don't go just yet, Luke I can't have you thinking bad about me."

Luke sighed in exasperation. "I don't think bad of you Deena. Force, who am I to throw stones? I think you were about to make a mistake yes, but it didn't end as bad as it could have."

"Do you think Corin would leave me if I told him?"

"How would I know, Deena?" Luke moaned. He tried to ignore the nasty glance Mara shot him behind Deena's back.

"Could you forgive your girlfriend if she kissed someone else when she was drunk?"

"If it was just once I'm sure I could. If she learned from her mistake." Luke hesitated between his wish to be nice to Deena and the knowledge that wrapping things up too much would serve her badly later. He couldn't help adding. "But if she'd do it again just because she was miserable and I wasn't around, that I couldn't live with."

Mara looked away and rolled her eyes again.

"Would you ever kiss on someone just because you were lonely and miserable?"

"No, I don't think I would. Not if I was engaged elsewhere."

"But that's so easy for you to say!" Deena cried. "You're always so calm and cool and collected! Even out there, when we were close to blow to pieces you just went on like it didn't concern you, like the ship blowing apart was something you could just _think_ away!"

"That's the point, Deena," Mara put in. "You _have_ to 'think it away' as you put it. It's not that I don't know what can happen or that I'm not concerned, I just choose not to think about it, otherwise I can't function properly."

"Yeah? And _my_ point is that you _can_ still think it away. I can't. Not a chance I could!" Deena's voice was almost accusing and for the first time in her life Mara found herself backpedaling, something in Deena's genuine spontaneity making her doubt the actual soundness of her own cool rationalism.

She shrugged, trying to bring it down to a level more easily handled. "Perhaps I just have a poor imagination."

Deena shook her head. "Luke's the same and he _hasn't_ got a poor imagination. You're just two strong, cool persons. You're strong enough to remain yourselves no matter what happens, to stand firm and don't lose yourself, regardless what you face."

_Lose yourself_...

Mara felt a cold chill run down her spine. She'd been lying for months now; to Deena, to Luke, to everybody else. Who knew, perhaps she'd been lying to herself most of her life. She had no idea anymore. She just knew that the meeting with these rebels had changed her, made her lose herself; day by day, step by step, but undeniably, irrevocably, and that nothing could undo that. So Deena was completely wrong and…

Then she looked at Skywalker. And knew that he felt exactly the same as she did. That Deena's accusation ripped up his own intentions, in his own self-examination and judgement. And that what he saw of himself at that wasn't pretty either. And Force help her – she felt sorry for him because she wished no one to have it the way she had it now.

"No one is like that Deena," Luke stated firmly, voice low. "_No_ one. Everybody stumbles, everybody loses his way at some point. To feel wrong sometimes is part of being human. It is what makes us grow." He flashed a pale smile. "At least I hope it is."

"But I feel so wrong so much of the time!" Deena blurted out. "I feel like, deep down, I'm a person who, no matter how much I've learned, no matter how good it looks now, how much though I try and how much though I want to make things right; sooner or later I will anyway end up spoiling it all again. Not because it's my destiny or anything, but because I'm such a jerk! Once a jerk, always a jerk. You can't change what you are!"

Luke sighed. "Listen, Deena. You're not the only one who feels like that. Sometimes I feel like that too, pretty often to tell the truth. Every time I'm into something new or everytime I do a mistake – and that's pretty often I can tell you. Each time my old shortcomings rush up, all of them, and try to drag me down again, convince me there's no use trying anything else."

"You feel like that too? _You_?" Deena dropped down on her bunk, eyes wide and nailed to Luke.

Mara stood still and listened, feeling like an eavesdropper and afraid any movement of hers would reveal she was present too.

"Yeah, me." Luke threw out his hands and sat down beside her. "Don't play surprised, you should know me. I'm a jerk from a farm, you're at least a jerk from Etti, right? It doesn't give us any right to run into hiding. The thing is, Deena, I think everybody feels like a jerk from time to time. Some of us feel it a lot, other's feel it seldom enough to be able to forget what it's like in the between. But it's not your feelings that make you a jerk. It isn't even the many mistakes you might make. You're not a jerk as long as you keep doing what you have to and even manage some good stuff in between; you're not a jerk before you let that feeling lame you so that all that's left is your jerking."

"Wow. That was deep." Deena leaned in to his shoulder, not finding anything else to say. She smiled to Luke and pulled his hand to her chin. She blinked drowsily. The next moment she was asleep, still clinging to his hand.

Luke gave Mara a helpless glance.

Mara smiled softly to Deena, then shot him a mischievous glance back, letting her eyes wander back and forth between them. "What was the middle part again?" she asked teasingly

Luke groaned. "I didn't mean to give a speech."

"Never mind. It was pretty good, really. Pity that I was the only one to hear it properly." Mara shrugged. "Come on, let's get her to lie down. I guess you have other things to do than be a pillow."

With combined efforts they laid Deena down on the bunk, loosened her clothing and pulled her boots off. Luke gently pulled the blanket up around her, giving the blonde head a soft caress as he did. He glanced at Mara. "I wish I knew what we could do to help her. I'm so afraid she'll destroy her own chance of happiness when that mood takes her."

"Are you sure Corin is her way to happiness?" Mara questioned. "I think he sounds like a first class bore if you ask me. Besides, I don't believe relationships make anyone happier."

"I've figured that much out," he replied rather dryly. "But just because you don't believe in relationships, it doesn't mean they can't work well for others."

Mara shrugged. "Oh, I'm aware of that. And I think relationships work exactly as well as the luggage you bring into them. If you're balanced, you have a good chance of bringing that on and getting things working. If you bring pudu, well..."

Luke sighed. "Some people bring out hidden sides of each other too. Leia brought up the honest man in Han Solo – just a few hours ago he popped out as General – who would have thought that? And he brings up the indulgence in her, helping her to relax some. And in a similar way I think Corin brings out the balance in Deena. He's not very dazzling, that's true, but he loves her spirit all the more for that and I believe he truly cares about her. He's a good, reliable guy – and he actually has a great sense of humor."

For Deena's sake, Mara hoped he was right. "Still, you're afraid she'll blow it?"

"If she cheats on him, she would. I think he might forgive a one-time stupidity, he's really cool and has nothing to prove, but I don't think his patience is unlimited."

And for the man's own sake, they couldn't really hope it was, Mara reflected. Aloud she said, "Well, there's not much we can do about it now, is it? Danger's over for tonight – but the next is awaiting tomorrow."

"All right, I get the hint." Luke straightened. "I'll leave you to yourselves."

He walked to the door where he turned to look at her again. "Mara, will you think about my suggestion?"

She gave him a hard glance. "Thinking is the easy part."

He nodded and left, and somehow, the silent closing of the door resounded deafeningly in the cabin behind him.

T.B.C.


	33. Chapter 33

Sorry for being late, folks. RL didn't agree with me that writing fanfic is the most important thing in the universe - and **frodo** was facing similar problems. Fortunately **blank** was able to step in as beta! I'm carefully optimistic though, that the last three chapters of part 1 can be posted with two weeks intervals again :D

And as ever, my deepfelt thanks to all you who follow and review this story!

* * *

**Quagmire - Chapter 33**

**The Battle of Endor**

Mara woke from her troubled sleep with a start. Sitting straight up in bed she glanced at her chrono. Kark! She'd slept far longer than she should! Not bothering to try to wake Deena, she was ready and out of her door in minutes, jogging the passageway to the turbolift. With all due probability there was still a couple of hours before the call to general quarters, but she needed to check the _Falcon_ before that – _and _she needed to report to her Master what she'd found out.

She arrived in the main hangar – and the Force was with her. Easy to spot due to its round shape among all the fighters, the _Millenium Falcon_ was standing with its loading ramp lowered, which make it pretty sure that either Solo or the Wookiee was inside – maybe both of them. It struck Mara that she should have tried to worm out of Skywalker what those two were to do in the upcoming battle.

As casually as she could muster, Mara approached the old, battered YT-1300 freighter. After all she'd been seen entering the ship before, and she'd been seen around the people frequenting it enough times that there was a good change no one would pay attention that she entered it. Carefully, she reached out with the Force – and her heart started to leap wildly. The ship was empty! It was actually empty! The Force was with her indeed!

Steeling herself not to hurry, she sauntered up the loading ramp but once inside the ship, she broke into a run and practically spurted to the shipcomputer. This was her chance – if she blew it…!

Her heart hammered as she powered up the system. The wait for the computer to start up seemed endless but in contrast it didn't take her long to break the codes. Solo might be a good pilot and know how to wire his ship – but he was no slicer.

She hardly had to scroll the log, the co-ordinates of the ships last voyage practially screamed at her and Mara hurried to copy them to her datapad. She had what she needed and she hadn't been discovered – her hand already hovered over the computer's closing button.

Then, maybe reassured by this quick victory, she hesitated. Was there more of interest to her in this computer? Carefully, she reached out with the Force. She could not yet sense anyone – surely she had a little time still?

Her boldness was rewarded. On the harddisk she found nothing less than Skywalker's Jedi file, freshly updated – and from the contents she could see that he had indeed visited Yoda on his last trip. Obviously the Jedi master would be no threat to anyone anymore. It took her valuable moments to copy the entire file but when she was done, she was extremely pleased with herself. Maybe she hadn't managed to seduce Skywalker yet, but she had at least managed this half of her task!

But as she straightened, she heard the thing she'd feared since she came – footsteps_._

Mara snapped the datachip, quickly turned off the navicomputer and turned to leave…

realizing it was too late. The steps were already coming from the corridor. She was caught! Fumbling for her blaster she reached out with her senses – and realized who it was!

Lando Calrissians's expression when he saw her was priceless. That was for the first three seconds, then his face closed up, reserved, waiting. "Well, hello." There was none of his usual blitheness, no flirt, not even any effort to be pithy. It was just a plain, flat word.

Deciding at the last second that she could avoid shooting the man, Mara swang her leg lightly, contemplatively in the chair she'd thrown herself into. "Hello yourself," she murmured.

She had draped herself sideways across the co-pilot's seat, her back against one of the chair arms, one leg dangling over the other and chin resting on her hand. She hoped she looked introvert and contemplative gazing at the walls and controls, and occationally out of the canopy. The smartest move might have been to play to Calrissians vanity and declare she'd come here to seek him out personally to say goodbye but she had no idea why it was him who had showed up and not Solo. Besides, she didn't really belive she could pull that off. Not now. Not anymore. Somehow, somewhere, the rules had changed and while she damned herself for it every second, she couldn't turn the time back. And deep down, she also had a feeling that the gambler was too smart to buy any attempted flattery, when all came to all.

Lando put down a satchel that he'd been carrying over his shoulder and gingerly sat down in the pilot's seat, not taking his eyes of her. Mara didn't fail to note that he sat down so he could still easily reach his blaster. "So?"

"So?" she countered, forcing herself to sound unmoved, like she had noting to hide, like she'd just come here to remember some old memories.

"So," he repeated, left hand moving over the controls. "Ready for take off?"

"Huh?" She looked up in surpise.

"Ready for take off? We could leave this shit before this sucking battle's pulled off, and go chase our luck together, two roamers, free as stellar byrds…?"

She widened her eyes for an instant. Did he mean…?

"Naah," he grinned. "Just pulling your leg. I wouldn't do that to my pals. Not even for you, sweetie."

Mara's mouth twitched to a wry smile. "I guess you wouldn't. But now we're speaking about it, how come you're here and not Solo?"

"Oh, he has his own mission," Lando replied lightly. "And meanwhile he's been so kind to let me borrow this bird." He made a sweeping gesture.

"Really? That was generous of him." Mara didn't have to act to soud surprised. Solo let someone borrow his ship! Miracles never ceased! A dozen questions burned on her tongue but the fact was that for all his blithe tone, Lando didn't look nearly as relaxed as he should for a casual conversation. She had gotten what she came for – she had better leave while she had the chance. Mara rose to her feet, streching a little and offering Calrissian a pale smile. "Well, I guess I'd better be going, I have a lot to see to." Nodding to him she started to walk away as casually as she could manage. She hadn't managed three steps when she heard the sound of a blaster leaving its sheath and the familiar sound of a gun cocking.

"Stop! And turn around. Slowly."

She did as ordered, cursing herself under her breath. Lando was pointing his weapon towards her, and she had not a seconds' hesitation he was good. Very good. If he chose to fire she would have no chance whatsoever. So the key was to convince him that he didn't have to fire. She stared blankly at the muzzle for long seconds, then raised her eyes to his.

He didn't buy her surprised expression. She hadn't thought he would, either. Lando was many things but gullible wasn't one of them, and she had wasted her bag of goodwill with him. "So," he repeated. "What were you doing here, Jade?"

She opened her mouth to explain but he interrupted her before she'd even made a sound yet, his voice very low. "And don't give me any bantha pudu. I'm not as good as Luke at reading minds, but near as."

_Don't lie. Speak the truth and then twist it._ Her Master's lessons, taught from childhood boomed inside her mind.

"I needed to come here," she breathed.

Lando frowned. "Needed?"

She nodded, didn't offer more. His gun was still pointing steadily at her. That wasn't his weak point. Neither was his mind. His weakness was that he didn't know the answer to his question, she reminded herself. And despite their unfortunate involvement, he'd known her as fairly reliable so far. And he didn't _want_ to fire.

"I had to find out something," she told him. "It was important."

"Why?"

"It just was." She shrugged. "To me."

He was puzzled enough. She was slowly pulling him in. "Well, did you find out something, then?"

She looked down at her boots, then nodded.

When she looked up the gun was lowered a bit. Lando was still frowning though. "What did you find out?"

She let out a small sigh and the tiredness behind it was all genuine. "To explain it all to you would take a long time. You probably wouldn't understand my motives anyway." _Indeed you wouldn't, Lando…_

Her almost glum tone triggered a slight smile from him. "I might, you know," he offered, slipping on the path she had hoped he would. "Believe it or not, I'm a pretty good listener."

Mara tilted her head. "Maybe you are. I've just seen the talking side of you."

He grimaced and lowered his blaster, holstering it. "I suppose. Well, there's no time to correct that now, anyway." Then he added, in a wave of rare self-knowledge, "And I guess it wasn't me you came here to contemplate on, anyway?"

"No... Sorry."

"It's fine, fine... Well, I have a ship to prepare so you'd better leave now."

She nodded and turned when his voice came again.

"A kiss for good luck?"

His stubborn guts brough a reluctant smile to her face, but the realization of what he was going to attack made that smile fade again. She was caught in this stupid game – but so was he in a way. Anyway, it was all was out of her hands.

So she turned, looking straight at him, and walked back towards him. Lando glanced up at her, part disbelieving, part hopefully but strangely, completely vulnerable in that moment.

Mara extended her hand. "Stay smooth, ok? Don't let any laser catch you. And come back alive."

He smiled at that. Took her hand and kissed it with his usual gallantery. "My lady's wish is my command." Then he squeezed her hand quickly and added. "And you take care too, ok?"

She nodded and left. Once out of freighter she hurried her step. She needed to contact her Master!

. . .

Mara was just about to leave the Main hangar when she ran into Deena. Doing her best to hide her bafflement – it wasn't _that_ long since she'd left the cabin and then the other girl had been sound asleep - she took in her friend. Deena wasn't looking her best: her eyes were red rimmed and her skin puffed – even her hair looked as it if needed a sanisteem. But the expression of the Etti-girl was grim and determined. Even her greeting was different than it used to be, as she simply nodded. "Mara."

"Morning, Dee. Are you alright?" Mara wondered, not sure at all what to do with this new side of Deena. Clearly she must have got up straght after Mara herself, maybe even woken up as she left the cabin.

Deena gave her a stony look. "No. I'm not. But I shouldn't be either. I've been an idiot – and we're going to attack a Death Star. That's very far from alright. But I'm here to do what I should, and maybe after doing that – if we're still alive – maybe I'll then be allright." She frowned at Mara, who was still facing the doors, intending to excit the hangar. "Aren't you coming? There will be a briefing shortly."

Mara's brain ran lightspeed. She had to contact her Master. "In a moment. Really need to go. My stomach's being nasty."

Deena smiled sympahtizingly. "I puked when I woke up," she revealed , lowering her voice to a murmur. "I'm scared to nuts here. But there's no point thinking about that now. Just get your stomach emptied and you'll be okay – that worked for me. I'll make notes for you too, until you arrive."

Deena gave her shoulder an assuring squeeze and Mara was just about to hurry on as a thought struck her. _This might be the last chance to_… "Do you know where um…Luke is?"

Deena looked surprised. "I thought you knew? He left for Endor hours ago – on that Lambda shuttle he stole at Aderon station. He's part of the strike team alongside with Leia, Han and Chewie. They'll destroy the energy shield so we can hit the Death Star."

Mara moaned quetly. She should have guessed. Why hadn't she? And why hadn't she _asked_? She'd spent a good anount of time in Lu- in Skywalker's company last evening. "Gotta go," she told Deena. And Deena, to her credit, only nodded in understanding.

. . .

"_Dead you say? _Dead?"

The rage of the Emperor rolled over her like a mighty wave and Mara flinched of pain, hunching where she kneeled. She didn't understand why her Master was angry at the death of his enemy, except that he was robbed of the chance of killing Yoda himself. Which probably was the reason. Slowly, however, the Emperor's wrath rolled over.

"_And Skywalker has left, you tell me_?"

Mara was still shivering. "_Yes Master_."

"_You have failed me! You have failed me _again,_ my Hand! I ordered you to gain his confidence and take Brie's place as his mistress_!"

His displeasure and distaste with her cut like a knife. Mara struggled to justify herself. "_But Master, I _have_ gained his confidence. If I had changed strategy I would have risked all I had gained. Surely, when he returns_…"

"_Sometimes, in order to win, you have to dare to risk. Have I taught you nothing? Skywalker will not return_."

Mara silenced, confused. He had never offered her this piece of information. So she waited.

The Emperor however, having come to this point in his conclusions, stilled, and through their bond she could follow his reasoning, half to her, half to himself. "_Yes… He will come to me. He will be mine anyway. He will be more traineded than I expected but he will still become mine… I will have my new, young and powerfull young apprentice_…" He silenced, Mara waited. Then… "_And I will have the heir to my Empire_…"

A cold chill run down her back but she had nothing to set that against.

"_My Hand_?"

"_Yes, Master_?"

"_The time for you to return has come, but due to the battle this will probably not be possible before it's over. Your orders at present will be very simple: your mission now is to stay alive! Do you think you can manage that_?"

Maras heart sunk. "_Yes, my Master"_

"_The Rebel fleet will attack, and we will wait for them. When they come, we will crush them. But we will not destroy _Home One_. There is too much prey on it to waste. It will be left to fight to the last_."

Mara's heart leapt by his words but her hope did not. "_If I stay with the rebels and my mission is to stay alive, I'll have to help them. If I could be allowed to take risks I could instead be able to sabotage_…"

"_No_."

Her hope died. And yet, inside her, in some traitorous depth she hoped her Master didn't see, she was relieved.

"_What petty little damage you could hope to achieve is not worth the risk. You have failed me too much of late, I will not take it. Your have value to me alive only. If you were caught in sabotage during the battle you'd be shot immediately_."

The Emperor silenced for a moment. "_Do not have second thoughts about helping the Rebels at this point, even if it means sacrificing a few of our own. It is a situation where the end justifies the methods. You are still too valuable to me, Mara Jade, for a few star pilots to matter. That will be all for now. Soon we will meet again, and then Skywalker will be one of ours_…"

"_What about Brie_, _my Lord_?"

"_She is irrelevant_," the Emperor dismissed.

"_Yes, Master_." She didn't care about the woman one bit. So why then did her stomach twist at her Master's cold dismissal? Besides, Brie would be safe in the detention cell. She wouldn't perish unless _Home One_ took a direct hit from the Death Star – and her Master had just assured her that would not happen.

The Emperor broke the contact and Mara took a deep breath.

Battle day.

Busy day ahead.

. . .

People hurried around in hustling frenzy, air buzzed, thick with intent anticipation, suppressed fear and deadly determination.

To Mara, the long wait – from the fighter's leaving and to the battle actually starting and some of them returning for repairs- was pure torture. To stay below deck om helpless, idle waiting, far from any transparisteel windows – she couldn't imagine anything worse.

And then the torpedoes started to hit. Maybe the Death Star and the capital ships she knew had to be out there, didn't fire on _Home One_, but TIE after TIE managed to break through the defences of the mighty cruiser and the Mon Calamari ship shook from one devastating blast after another. Missiles blew and shattered into sizzling sharpnels of crushed metal or melted, silvery fluid, soaking the living beings in its way. The hangar was livid of shouts of warning and screams of pain and terror, was tumoltous by the hoards of wildly running people, some of the purposeless, most of them adamantly purposeful. Time and time again Mara recognized Deena, who somehow always seemed to be able to find and fetch stretchers, medpacs and helpers, slaving to get the wounded to the medbay.

Mara herself did what was her duty here – run to each fighter that docked more or less wrecked, and did her best to make the vessel flyable again – but it never seemed enough. In the condensed chaos she forgot who was supposed to be friend and who was in fact her enemy. In the stalwart atmosphere, refusing to give in to panic, she worked like a maniac, giving her all to get the pilots out again. She had her orders – but in tiny, terrifying moments she wondered if she hadn't done it anyway, though she'd steeled herself not to. Everyone worked together. Everyone did their share and more.

All the time, the monitors reported the minutes of the battle going on outside. "Gold five down. Green twelve down. _Vindication _has taken several hits. _Champion_ is lost. Red six gone. Blue Leader's dead. _Liberty _destroyed."

_Liberty_? That was the ship where Deena came from. Where her fiancé Corin was stationed. Was he dead now too? Mara turned to look for her friend but the blond girl was nowhere to be seen. Silently, Mara was grateful for that. She didn't know if she could handle more.

She had fought and killed since she was a child, on missions and in battles, space battles even, but still, she had experienced nothing that could have preparred her for this. While the Death Star didn't fire, the countless TIE's and capital ships did – and the destruction wherever she turned was devastating. The chaos, the desperation, the death... It wasn't only physically around her, in bloodied and shattered bodies, in shouts and screams and pleas for help and yells of pain – the entire air about her was condensed with death in a way she'd never experienced before! Was it her closeness to Skywalker that had opened her to the Force so that she could sense all that fear and pain and ending of life, the same way he'd described it, or was it something else – she didn't know. She was only aware that the onslaught to her senses was immense, unbearable.

Positioned under deck as she was, Mara had contact with the battle at large only through the monitors but at one point when she looked up, the hangar was open and through it she saw – actually _saw_ the thing they were attacking. And the mighty Rebel Alliance Fleet with Star Cruisers and frigates, with corvettes and gunships and over 500 starfighters was nothing – nothing in comparision!

The second Death Star! It was enormous. Gigantic. Monumental… Monstrous!

She had seen the first Death Star, of course. Visited it several times when it had looked exactly like this; under construction. It had been only slightly smaller than this, but Mara had always seen it as a magnificent expression of potency, as the ultimate power of force. Never had it seemed to her as it did now – as a dictatorial tool, a distorted manifestation springing from a compulsivly power-hungry mind.

Looking around her she saw the people about her struggle for their lives, for their belief. Wrecked ships came in with wounded pilots and crew, whenever there was a break in the firing and rebel fighters could keep the tenacious TIE's away enough to open shields. Badly wounded from _Home One_ were taken to shuttles to take off to the hospital frigate. Still, they kept fighting. They didn't abandon the attack, though every cell in their brains must scream that was the only reasonable thing to do! If this wasn't courage, if this wasn't idealism, then what was? Something constricted in Mara's breast… What was the matter with her?

The monitor acnowledged that the _Executor_ had been blown up. That was Vader's flagship! For long moments Mara stood struck in shock, then she shook her out of her passivity. She was losing her edge!

Angry with herself, Mara returned to the wrecked fighter before her, just flown in from the fight. Its sides were burned black by blasterfire and the transmitter array had been damaged but theoretically it should be able to fly if the transmat shunt was replaced. The main obstacle to that was, however, that it was still frying hot and the cooling array were already working overdrive on the secondary shunt.

Suddenly everything went dark and she fell, fell, down an endless abyss. No, not everything was dark. There were lights, many different lights and those big starfilled windows she knew well enough. She recognized her Masters throneroom, true to its form wherever he had it built. But hardly had she recognized this before she felt the pain, powerful and overwhelming. She saw Skywalker and Vader, duelling, their lightsabers cracking in the wild fight. Vader was strong and forceful but Skywalker was better, quick in parries as in counterattacks, his feet as sure and swift as his saber. It all seemed like a long drawn-out scene, shown in the instant of a second. But suddenly it all changed, too quickly for Mara to follow. She saw Skywalker attack her Master but the Emperor reached out his hand towards the Jedi and pour fired lightnings towards him and Skywalker stumbled under its power. Suddenly, however, Vader was at Skywalkers side, attacking the Emperor. He grabbed her Master, lifted him high and threw him down into the deep power shaft. Mara gasped in panic and tried to reach her Master, but the pain overwhelmed her and she felt herself falling! The last thing she persieved was his voice carrying his last words, aimed at her: "You will kill Luke Skywalker!"

Then darkness took her.

. . .

Mara came to herself after what felt like an age, but that actually was only a couple of minutes later.

Somebody was screaming in her ear, "Are you ok?"

She stared at the man and recognized one of the ground crew for Gold Group. She nodded, almost authomatically. "I'm fine!" It was a pure lie. Her chest constricted so she could hardly breathe. It was like her entire world had smouldered. "Just a sec and I'll be there," she heard herself say.

Fortunately he didn't ask why she'd fainted all at once without no visible reason. Maybe he thought it was due to failing nerves. He patted her shoulder and hurried on.

Mara pulled herself up to lean towards a bulkhead and stared dully at all the people running around each other in panic, in order to get their own pitiful bit of a rebel cruiser to function. She closed her eyes. Just run. Run all you like. Soon you'll all be blown to atoms, just like you deserve. The pain inside her was impossible to bear. She called desperately for her Master but he was gone. Forever.

An slowly, slowly the realization awoke inside her of who was responsible. Bloodred hatred exploded inside her, rippling her gut to make her shake in convoluted rage. She'd seen what had happened – and indeed, who else could have caused this but him? _Skywalker_, that son of a Sith! He was the one responsible!

_Kill Luke Skywalker_! 'Her Master's voice reverberated in her mind. She heard the words exactly; precisely, cut through with bitter fury

Yes! She'd find him and kill him! Now, at last, she didn't have to care about the rest of her orders. Now her Master's bidding was loud and clear. Finally she could finish what she had set out to do. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

And the miserable question burned inside her: how could her Master had been so mistaken? Why hadn't he allowed her to kill that Jedi spawn from the start?

.

She had just singled out the fighter she would leave in when a thought struck her. There was one thing that duty obliged her to do, no matter how much it sucked her personally.

. . .

Shira Brie was sitting on the narrow bunk and looked completely taken aback when she recognized Mara in the entrance.

"C'mon," Mara snarled. "And hurry up, will you. We haven't got all day."

That set the other agent moving and she hurried past Mara to the passage way. There she stopped, taking in the stunned guards. "Neat."

"Pick a blaster and get yourself out. I'm only helping you this far. You have to find your way out yourself."

"No problem, dear," Brie confirmed, crouching swiftly to pick the handgun from an unconscious guard. "I just can't help wondering… Our Master is dead, and I know you must have sensed it too?" She threw a questioning glance to Mara who could feel her throat constict – the only way she could keep herself moving was by keeping that awareness staunchly at bay.

"He's dead," she confirmed. "I felt it as well."

Brie tilted her head. "Then why are you doing this? I know you can't stand me."

Mara shrugged. "Isn't it obvious? We're in this together."

"Ah." A smile played on Brie's lips. "So you think I would have done the same to you?"

A nauseating chill run down Mara's spine but she forced her voice level. "I don't know and I don't care – but at least you didn't sell me out. I figure I owe you for that if nothing else."

The other woman laughed. "And now you expect me to owe _you_? You certainly shouldn't. I never pay my debts. It's a matter of principal. Paying debts makes people soft. And I never liked you, anyway." Brie's eyes narrowed. "Besides, you're a fool. You could be running to freedom already, yet you waste time to get me out. You _choose_ to remain a pawn - because that was all you ever were to him. You and me alike. He never believed us worth more than that."

"You call it being a pawn," Mara snarled. "I call it loyaly."

"Sure honey. Wrap it up." They had reached the turbolift and Brie palmed in the floor, turning to Mara again. "But you're wrong. I was sorely tempted to tell them who you are – but there's one reason, and one reason only why I didn't. I knew about your loyalty – and the only way I could pay Skywalker back was to let you get to him. Be that as the second lover who betrayed him or as his bane – I didn't care." Her eyes narrowed. "I hoped for both, of course."

"Don't worry," Mara reloaded her gun. "I'm going to kill him now."

"That's the first smart thing I've heard you say. But forgive me, I don't think you will. You don't have the nerve."

"Your opinion mean _so_ much to me." Mara held her eyes on the wall display that told them they'd reached the hangar level where the small shuttles were. But a worry shot up in her. Skywalker was _her_ target. It was _her_ who would revenge their Master – not Brie, who didn't _care_, not one whit!

"Now, get moving," she snarled. "But if I catch you in my way I'll kill you too. He's _mine_!"

"Be my guest, dearie," Brie smirked. "Wouldn't spoil it, not even for you."

The last Mara saw of her was the taunting curl of her smile before she turned to run down the passageway.

. . .

Mara herself, stopped behind a transparisteel window. The battle still raged outside, but the TIE's had broken their fierce attack and were now defending the Star Destroyers. Taking the whole chaotic scene in , it looked like the impossible was happening; the Rebels were winning.

But that was, as her Master would have said, immaterial. Allowing herself to draw on the Force for calm, Mara turned to stare down at the emerald orb that was the Forest moon of Endor. Skywalker was there, or on his way, she knew it; felt it, just as she felt the blood that rushed through her veins, thundering in her ears, dulling the ripping pain in her chest and somehow enabling her to cripple the bloodred fury that threatened to overpower her every moment.

Something burned in the corners of her eyes and she blinked rapidly, angrily, to get rid of the disturbing feeling. Mara took a deep breath. She was done here. Done with the Rebels. She had only one bill to pay.

And she would pay it. As soon as she could.

T.B.C.


	34. Chapter 34

We're closing in on the end of part I. This time, my thanks goes to both **frodogenic** and **blank101**; for beta and for "battle aid" ;-P

And of course to you, my untiring readers!

* * *

**Quagmire - Chapter 34**

**Kill Luke Skywalker**

Luke woke in the early morning, his body stiff and aching, his chin and neck itching from the pine needle bed the Ewoks had provided. He turned with effort on the bed and peeked out through the hatchless door. It was still nearly dark, the air outside misty and full of the sounds from the surrounding forest; the grating smell from the moss and pine trees met his nostrils. He could sense the village was still sleeping; it had to be very early.

He had left the celebration at some point in the evening, the warmth and camaraderie eventually overwhelming him, his loss and pain still too fresh for him to cope with it all.

The absolute betrayal when his father lead him to the Emperor – those sickly sulphurous eyes; "there's no hope, your friends are going to a trap – they will die…" Fear and helplessness, the anguishing fight - against his own _father_. The crippling desperation…"He will never turn back from the Dark Side…" "You cannot hide... A sister… Maybe she will turn…"

None of it was easier here in the morning. Too many bellowing, blazing memories…

Palpatine's face twisting in hate… The lightning ripping his body… His father's chalk-white face and watery eyes, his loving touch in the Force."You were right about me. Tell your sister you were right…"

Shaking himself against the chilly, damp morning air Luke left the hut and tried to rub some warmth into his stiff limbs. They ached much more than last night, the pain crawling deep into his bones in an unfamiliar way. Maybe it wasn't just the bed; his entire body throbbed and plain logic told him the Emperor's assault must have left its impact. He would have to pay a visit to the medbay. When Leia heard everything – last night had simply been too flushed with victory and too loud for him to get out any more than a rough survey of the events – she would drag him there anyway. He smiled softly at the thought of his sister, but even that warmth seemed almost numb and distant in this moment. Too much had happened, he needed time to digest it all.

The blue shimmering forms in the air; his father, Ben, Yoda… the pride in their eyes… His father's body collapsing in his arms, his breaking voice: "Go… my son."

Standing on the balustrade around the hutt Luke gazed into the morning mists for awhile; then, to get some warmth at least into his aching joints, he started walking.

He wandered aimless for some time, first meandering the walkways and bridges of the Ewok village and pausing on the many platforms outside the hutts; then, lowering himself to the ground, he strode into the woods, letting his feet and the terrain guide his step. Birds were clearing their throats here and there in the bushes, daring their first sounds of the day, and hazes rose from the swampy soils in some farther part in the forest. Slowly, Luke became aware that he was taking the same way he'd followed yesterday, when he returned to the village from his father's pyre, only the opposite way this time.

For a moment he slowed – hadn't he made his goodbyes already? But though hurting, his feet wouldn't stop walking and he was too tired not to comply. Something drew him, pulled him, inevitably, as though destiny awaited him where the path ended. Luke complied with eyes half closed, his senses almost clogging in the sounds and smells of the forest; wet pine needles, resin, rusty sqeaks from forest avians and the scratches of quick rodents rustling up or down tree trunks and bush branches. While he could distinguish the first streaks of light up between the trees it was too dark to see this close to the ground. But then, he didn't need to – the Force led his way.

. . .

The pyre was still smoking when he arrived. Luke reflected sheepishly that he should have taken more care to put out the fire before he left. Either he'd trusted the Force to warn him if it had been dangerous – or he'd just been too plain exhausted.

He was weary still, weary beyond words, beyond the ability to feel his own body. He gazed at the smoking pile of ash and coal and twisted metal and thought of the man who'd been set to rest there; a man he still desperately wished he'd known and a man who had caused so much pain – to Luke, to Leia, to the galaxy – but who had repented when he faced the opportunity. A man who had returned to the light from the darkest of destinies.

Luke closed his eyes, part from fatigue, part against the knowledge that while he himself had finally forgiven and embraced his father, he was the only one who had. Leia, he feared, could not – the rest of the galaxy certainly wouldn't. No matter how much it pained him, his father's death had probably been for the best. And last night, he'd seen his father, Ben and Yoda together in a vision. If the Jedi had forgiven him, then his father was where he belonged now. Maybe the strain of life slowed in the beyond? Maybe pain and hatred and passion all faded, thinned, dissolving into the eternal peaceful flow of the Force?

Luke blinked, flickers of smoke that blew up from the remains of the pyre stealing in under his closed eyelids. One day he too would become part of that river. In this moment he did not shy from it – in fact, he almost anticipated it.

. . .

A snap-hiss behind him pulled him out of his reverie. Luke started the familiar sound, completely misplaced here in the archaic forest, but still so distinctively menacing when it wasn't coming from his own saber, that his head cleared immediately. The hairs at the nape of his neck stood on end. _Be careful what you wish for – _he could practically hear Uncle Owen growling in his ear. Had death heard him somehow, and come for him? Slowly, as protractedly as in a bad dream, he turned around.

In the hazy morning light stood Mara Jade, a strangely sharp and shrieking form against the misty landscape around them. Her hair was pulled back in a tight braid, a blaster was strapped on her hip and her eyes seethed and burned in her contorted face. The lightsaber in her hand burned red as blood.

"Mara?" Luke blinked. She was unequivocally the last person he had expected. As he studied the bizarre sight, he recognized – "That saber…"

"It was Vader's." Her lips pulled to a strange, joyless smile. "I'll borrow it for a while. To finish what he should have done."

Her eyes were hard as green stones, glinting in the dim. Never before now had Luke realized just _how_ hard they could really be. The impact sent cold chills down his spine. "Mara. What are you talking about?"

She stepped closer, the red blade tight between them, its tip pointing at his chest. "Vader's task was to win you for the Emperor – or to kill you. He accomplished neither but instead tried to persuade you to join him. And now, with his dead and my Master's, there is only one path left."

Her words made Luke's blood run cold. The ache in his limbs pulsed, sharper by the second. How did she know all this? She _shouldn't_ know, she had no way of knowing, unless… _Master?_ "Your master?" he echoed. Even as the disbelief in his voice reverberated back into his own ear, doubt evolved into terrible knowledge...

"My Master, Skywalker, was the Emperor." As he continued to stare, clueless, she elaborated. "I was his Hand. His first servant. He was the purpose of my life, the sole fixpoint of my existence. And _you_…!" Her eyes narrowed to spitting slits. "You maliciously killed him!"

Luke shook his head, most of his mind completely numb to this strange nightmare taking form right before him. "No."

This couldn't be. _Not her too_! _Not _Mara… He'd thought _she _could be trusted. He'd thought… _Why? Why did you think that? You idiot, you sensed danger from her on your very first meeting on Tatooine!_

_But an Imperial agent? Not that. Not _her…

"No," he repeated, flatly.

She hissed at him. "Don't deny it! I _saw_ you!"

"Saw?" he echoed her again, distantly aware he sounded like a fool but unable to shake himself out of it.

Mara's voice was a low snarl only. "I could hear my Master's commands throught the Force. I was able to communicate with him across the entire galaxy. And the moment before he died he _showed_ me what happened. I _know_ you turned on him, you and Vader both!"

"But we…" For a moment Luke hesitated, tried to work up his mind to see it all from the Emperor's point of view, because if Mara was right, then it was through his eyes she had seen it. Still, he couldn't for his life see himself as the aggressor in the events that had unfurled yesterday. He had attacked the Emperor yes, but that had been exactly what the wily old Sith had counted on, the precise response he'd sought to provoke – and Vader had been standing by as Palpatine's body guard. Then in the end, Luke had managed to contain his rage and desperation, managed to hold on to his feelings. And hadn't he – stupid, _beyond _stupid - thrown away his own lightsaber and nearly lost his life because of that? So how the _hells _could it ever have looked like he'd killed the man?

"…didn't" he insisted dumbly.

Her eyes hardened even further, if that was possible. "Liar!"

Luke swallowed hard. "Mara, I don't lie."

Waves of hatred slammed against him but he resisted the instinct to shut her out and instead forced himself to opened his mind to her. Surely, even if she was spy, she would be able to see… This was _Mara,_ and they shared… She wasn't heartless and unreachable as Shira had been, wasn't lost to him; only now she was burning in pain and desperation... If he could just…

A sob of anger tore from her thoat. "I don't care! He's dead now – but I'm still his Hand. And I will still fulfill his last command!"

Luke's throat constricted. "And what's that?" he asked, feeling a prophetic resignation.

"To kill you! Kill Luke Skywalker!" Her voice stirred. "I should have done that already back in Jabba's Palace."

Luke blinked. "You were _there_ to kill me?"

Those slices of green ice, pierced into his. "That was my mission. The reason I came with you was to finish what I'd failed. Then I received new orders to stand down and get close to you, which I did, dutifully, until my orders changed again – last night."

He stared at her, shocked to the core of his soul. "And now…?"

"Now I kill you." All emotion had left her voice and face now.

Luke searched for words, but they failed him, all of them. That this woman, who he'd saved, helped, talked with, bantered with, fought with and gradually grown so attached to, would have played a double role all this time, was simply incomprehensible. It might be the second time he'd been fooled, he should know the procedure by now, yet he was standing dumbfonded.

And yet… Slowly, things congealed; images, impressions and facts slipped together almost by themselves like pieces in a magnetic puzzle, revealing the hidden patterns. It occurred to him that, amazingly, Mara had never lied - except for her background story, which had been dubious all the time anyway. She had never allegedfriendliness, not towards him; it was he himself who had chosen to understand her reluctant positive admissions as deepfelt.

And meeting her merciless stare now, he had no doubt she would carry out her mission. Had no doubt she had the capacity to do so either. As she approached, his hand reluctantly reached for his lightsaber, for the second time this night, but this time he knew his strength was failing him. His entire body ached from an unnatural electrocution fuelled with living hate, and he was weary beyond exhaustion.

Mara raised her lightsaber and launched on him. Luke ignited his own blade in response and drove his weight into his toes to dodge, but even for this movement he had to reach out to the Force for strength. He had no wish or will for this fight. He only wanted to get it over with, no matter the outcome.

Still, his arms and his body reacted, as if by themselves. Years of intense training with the remote had ingrained the motions; faced with a threat, his reflexes took control. As Mara's saber slashed down, Luke's arm darted out, blocked the red blade close to the hilt and pushed it away, his physical strength still greater than hers despite his exhaustion. Mara was out and away from his reach in a quarter of a second, her saber whipping back up to ready stance, avoiding a counter-strike that didn't come. Her brow wrinkled in surprise but only for an instant – then she charged again.

Again Luke parried, and again he refrained from completing his move with a counter attack. Mara danced out from his reach, agile as a felinx and started to circle him, seeking an opening. The self-control she displayed in battle stood in stark contrast to that ferocious hatred surging through the Force. Luke reached out for her, hoping desperately for an opening. "Mara, we don't have to do this. You're not yourself and…"

Even in his own ears that sounded completely bizarre, sensing her raw enmity – and Mara let out a snorting laugh despite the agony he could sense burning inside her chest. "Burn in the nine Corellians hells!" she snarled. "I'll give you 'not myself'! For the first time in months I_ am_ myself – I know _exactly_ what to do!" She pounced on him again, a wild attack that rained down the blows and only with the uttermost effort did Luke manage to fend her off.

Her fighting was fast and extremely skillful, completely different from his father's brute strength, aganst which Luke's own agility had been both his best defense and attack. Against Mara's fast cuts and incredible nimbleness he felt trapped in his ailing body, like his father in his armor. Not even under heavy fire had he moved his blade so fast before. He pulled back under the onslaught, trying to put some distance between them. This was another nightmarish fight, all the worse because if he'd had no wish to kill his father, he had even less wish to hurt Mara. While tautly strained, her pain still radiated from her through the Force, spilling like a scarlet scream into his awareness.

Mara paused for a moment, obviously reconsidering her approach. She had counted on surprise, aggression and speed, but Luke had, somehow, managed to counter those, her best weapons. But he was drained, physically and mentally – she had to be able to sense that – there was no way she'd give him time to recover.

And she didn't. She came for him again, her swordtip always straining towards his chest, occasionally lifting to his face, and while Luke shunted it aside over and over again, she always somehow managed to slide her blade around his, returning to that insisting stance.

Luke found himself reterating, using the Force to avoid roots and branches beneath his stumbling feet. He also had to draw on it to suppress the ache in his body, but the pain was breaching his defenses and he wouldn't be able to put up resistance much longer. To his despair, that left just two alternatives; either kill Mara or be killed himself. Hell, it probably wouldn't be his choice at all – Mara was too determined, too deadly an opponent – and he was too exhausted. _Talk_! his brain screamed. _Make her speak! That's the only way you can get you both out of this!_

"How," he panted, "how did you _become_ that? Become his Hand?"

"None of your business," she snarled. "It's what _you_'ll become in a moment that should concern you." She came for him again, in a high slash that dropped as he moved to parry and instead targeted his left hip, sweeping under his blade and rising quickly enough for Luke to feel the heat burn his skin. Only barely did he manage to move out of her attack. Mara didn't follow, obviously aware that while just a split second more might bring her the victory, it might also get her hands cut off.

And that told Luke that while anguished, she wasn't desperate, at least not yet. She could still be communicated with. There _had_ to be a way to turn this.

He dared lower his saber a moment. "You and Shira, were you in this together?" he asked, suddenly remembering the animosity he'd sensed between the two women. "It would certainly seem so to me."

That made her halt for an instance. A flash of anger crossed her expression, more spontaneous annoyance than anything. "It would, wouldn't it?" she agreed. "But no, we just happened to end up in the same place. We might have been colleagues, but that's all we'll ever share."

He'd seen correctly rightly then, Mara loathed Shira, maybe even more than she loathed him. At least more than she'd loathed him until the Emperor died. But how explain to her… Explain what? Her Master was dead, and while it wasn't true that Luke and his father had killed him in unison - certainly it hadn't been as Mara apparently saw it; two armed murders who turned on a helpless old man – but Luke had still been instrumental to Palpatine's dead. His father had…his _father_…? How much did she know? Luke swallowed hard. If his gut feeling of Mara was right, then she _didn't_ know, not that, not so much else either. She _believed_… She _believed_ in her Master, in the Emperor.

His brain raced, but a renewed assault from Mara broke his train of thought, forcing him to focus everything in order to fend her off. Again, Luke reached out to the Force, seeking guidance for his numb body to defend himself, seeking strength to move, to keep up. And the Force answered; led his arms to parries, dodges and counterblows, his eyes falling closed while he did. Except for its stream flowing through him, Luke could sense nothing more than the heaviness of his arms, the pain in his body and the heavy panting from both Mara and himself as the fight escalated.

Mara's hate, a hot, burning presence, punctured with unbearable pain, pressed hard against his consciousness. He wished to let her in, to show her he recognized her loss, but he couldn't manage it this time. Too much hate had cut through him, had burned him down the past hours. He needed peace, and he hardly cared how he got it anymore.

_Talk!_ Almost like a separate person in his head, his sense of self-preservation scrambled for control over the rest of him._ Break this madness or one of you will get killled_! He held out the only thing that came to mind. "My father – "

For a brief moment, her pressure on him paused. "What?"

Luke opened his eyes, looked straight at her. "He wanted me to kill my own father! Or for him to kill me. I couldn't let that happen."

She stared at him as if at a madman, and in a flash of insight, Luke realized that he had to look and sound like a first-rate psychotic. Not caring, he pushed on. "So I refused. I threw away my lightsaber – and then he attacked me. With lightning – "

Mara had already lifted her saber again but the last word made her freeze. "Lightning?"

Luke swallowed hard. "Yes. Made by the Force, somehow. Like condensed malice and evil."

She was severly unsettled now. "Who did? Your father attacked you? What are you talking about?"

"Palpatine attacked me. With the lightning." Luke forced himself to calm, to reach out to her. He felt her wavering - recognizing…

But her eyes hardened again. "You're lying! I _saw_ you!" She shifted stance, dominant foot moving to attack position again, mind resuming its deadly focus…

"I'm not lying, Mara." A thought struck him ad he gestured to the pyre, to the lightsaber in her hand. "Why would I want to cremate him otherwise? If he wasn't my father?"

The universe itself seemed to pause as Mara stared at him, mind clearly racing at lightspeed to put things together, not as much his shaky arguments as the picture his chopped-up information had sketched. "Your father?" she repeated, disbelieving. "Vader? _Vader_ was your father?"

Luke couldn't blame her for her distrust. It made no sense at all and nobody knew that better than he did. But she had the Force, like him – like him she could _know._ "Search your feelings, Mara. You know it's true." He took a deep breath. "Palpatine seduced my father to the Dark Side of the Force, so that he became Darth Vader – and he wanted me to take my father's place, tried to make us destroy each other. But I refused, and when he realized he couldn't turn me, Palpatine tried to kill me himself. And when he did, my father, who was still alive, deep down in the dark depths of Vader's soul, broke out to save me. And in doing so, he saved himself. He died in the light."

She still stared at him, shaking her head. "It makes no sense. It's impossible. Vader was a megalomaniac, a sick mass murderer…"

"And he was Palpatine's choice as head of the fleet." Luke reminded her. "He was all that, and more. He cut off my hand before telling me he was my father – just to get my attention. But he still was a good man _before_ he turned to the Dark Side – and that good man never truly died. He was saved. And last night I saw him – through the Force!"

Vaguely, he realized that his arguments hung together only loosely, but his lack of logic didn't seem to bother Mara, not in the state she was in. She clung on to her own truth. "And _I_ saw _you_! You _killed_ him!"

Luke shook his head. "_He_ attacked _me_. And that was _after_ I'd thrown my weapon away. My father threw him down a ventilation shaft, and he was weaponless too. He was even missing a hand – I had cut it off earlier when we fought. And Palpatine's lightning caused his death, only shortly after he'd saved me."

She believed him. On some deep-down level she believed him, he could sense that she did. But he could also sense what he was up against – the devastating agony of loss, loss of _everything_ really - and her desperation to hang on to a belief in order not to break down altogether. Even as he spoke, he could see and sense alike how she whipped herself up to fury again against the version of events he offered; her emotions a rising outburst through the Force, powerful and deadly like a sandstorm. Her fine features cracked to a female gorgon's as she yelled wildly and launched towards him in a mighty leap, saber slashing vertically.

Luke stagged half a step back and brought his saber up in parry, already feeling himself falter against that wild rage. His heart reached out for her with a sympathy he knew she would not accept, and his body now throbbed so fiercely it was painful to stand, let alone fight. The same instant he brought his arm up to parry Mara's high blow, coming from air, he realized he'd made a mistake.

Mara wasn't using the Force to jump, only to breach him mentally by her mindpower. Instead, she shortened the arch of her leap so it brough her down before him, feet firmly on the ground. It took Luke a splitsecond to lower his saber again to parry this new angle and when he did, she was ready. Following his movement and pushing to the left, Mara stepped to the right and cut low at his thigh. It was a classical counterattack and all the more devastating because Luke was already off balance. He yanked his arm down to twist his saber between hers and his body, but in the fraction of a second it took for him to move himself out of reach he felt new pain rush though him and smelled the burning cloth and flesh. Her saber or his own? It didn't really matter; only by raw strength had he managed to stop the deadly cut. He limped backwards to gain momentum but she was on him again with a series of fast blows that seems to come from everywhere at once. The Force guided Luke's arm; all other senses seemed to have shut down - he didn't even have an idea of how badly he was hurt. He kept on retreating, following the border of the small clearing

Mara kept the pressure steady, the tip of her saber constantly coming back against Luke's lagging parries. The power of his blows was equally fading – for each counter, her saber pressed closer, closer, her saber tip dancing almost _in _his eyes –

Out of nowhere she threw herself halfway in under his blade, slashing from beneath to push it back and sliding across the blade against his midrim. This was all or nothing! If she didn't kill him now, he'd pierce her instead, because her feet couldn't move forwards from this locked position half under him to his left side – on a smooth training floor they just might have, but the ground here was too full of roots and stones; his left foot locked and Luke swayed.

With a desperate twist of his body, Luke managed to arch backwards to avoid her red, sizzling blade. He brought his sword arm back, grasping it with his both hands for steadiness as he pressed it down to protect his stomach. Their blades locked, hilt to hilt, and with a final desperate move, Luke released pressure, twisted his saber and cut out again, ready to any second feel the contact of her weapon again.

But Mara had already broken her push, used as she was to relying on speed rather than strength, and Luke's counterattack, leaving him completely open, took her by surprise. She was still struggling to gain footing and bring her stance back to defense, when Luke's sabre cut through her guard and sank into the hilt of her blade. The metal divided with a shriek and the red blade died.

For long moments they just stood panting, stressed minds trying to grasp this turn of events. For Luke, a slow relief started to rise; he had managed to unarm Mara without hurting her – and without getting killed himself. He reached out to her through the Force with this relief; with the respect and affection he felt towards her, with the same forgiveness for his father that had filled so much of the last tumultous days - and suddenly it was like their shields broke; his and hers alike. Mara's anguish and fury flowed freely though him and Luke screamed in agony, staggered by the sheer, raw power of it and the almost frightening compassion it awoke within him. And just as he could see right into her soul in that moment; see her loneliness, see the desperate struggle for pride, decency and allegiance that had been her life - just alike, she could see his struggles and failures, his resentment and suffering.

Mara too staggered; this man she was trying to kill, was not an enemy but still, even here where she'd sworn his death, was prepared to forgive her. She wavered and halted, forced to reassess in front of such overwhelming mercy.

Then she launched again.

This time with bare hands, throwing herself straight at him with a speed that left Luke no chance to use his saber. Her hands came for his throat with deadly precision, and Luke knew better than to try to dodge out of this. He had never seen her fight close combat, yet she had shown an impressive skill with a blade, and he knew instinctively that he had nothing to match that agility but raw strength. And at the moment he didn't even have _that_.

He managed to buy himself a fraction of a second by pushing hard off his left foot, time enough to shut his saber down and throw it aside. Bringing his right arm up to grab her upperarm he let himself slide to the ground in a move the weaker normally uses against a stronger opponent. At the same moment his back hit ground and Mara dropped down onto him, he pushed up with his left hip – pain jolted though him almost white-hot– and pulled her with him in a roll, trying to lock her arms at the same time.

But this was Mara's ground**.** She followed the momentum, at the same time kicking against his crotch and Luke wrestled away with a pained grunt.

He knew she'd be over him the next second so he somehow managed to continue the roll until he got his foot under him, trying to get up. But she was already coming again and in desperation, Luke reached out, called the Force to him…

Mara skidded to a halt: Luke's green blade hummed between them, pointed at her chest.

She lifted her face to meet his eyes; his expression was almost pleading. "Don't come any closer…" He whispered the words, knowing full well he asked in vain…

She yelled – something more like an animal in pain than a human sound and threw herself on him.

He didn't think – he didn't even _move_ – except for his thumb, which flashed down on the activation key of his lightsaber. The blade's light vanished, but the next instant his eyes exploded with light as Mara's attacking arm hammered his head. His neck snapped backwards, the world rocked crazily, and he hit the forest floor. Overhead Mara's foot, already swinging forward for a second blow, stopped and came down heavily. He forced his head to the side and gazed up – she glanced at her abdomen, pressed her hand to where the fatal blow should have been, and then stared at him. He couldn't hold her gaze...the mist of the forest morning was crawling over his vision and everything was going black...

Mara cried out again, and stepped on Luke to reach for his head and yank it up by the hair. His eyes were fluttering, fighting in vain to stay in consciousness.

"You're a fool, Luke Skywalker!" she growled, bringing her face to his. "And you've completely misunderstood something! Being a Jedi Knight does not mean you can't defend yourself! "

He blinked, a smile that running across his face, faint as his whisper. "Perhaps I misunderstood… something. Wouldn't… be the… first time…"

The last thing he saw was her flashing eyes. Then darkness took him.

T.B.C.


	35. Chapter 35

**Quagmire – Chapter 35 **

**The Morning After**

When Luke slowly came to himself it was full daylight. He lay on the mossy ground, his left cheek ice cold with dew, that was the first thing he realized. The next was that he was cold all over, shivering really, and that his mouth tasted of iron. He lifted a hand, dragging it along his face and realized one side was sore and swollen. That had to be where Mara had hit.

Mara!

Luke sat up abruptly. Invisible sledgehammers slugged his head and spine but he had more important things to worry about.

Peering frantically in every direction, he couldn't see a trace of her. But he wasn't dead. For a second, he questioned even this obvious-looking fact – but his body wasn't shimmering in blue, he made contact with the ground all right and the plants around him moved under his touch.

Besides, could a ghost hurt like he did? Grunting, Luke struggled to his feet.

She had let him live... Why? He stroked his chin again and absentmindedly noted that he still had all his teeth.

Only he didn't have to ask why – somehow, he already knew. Mara had lost everything – she had tried to obey her Master's last command – but in the end, she had chosen not to, had chosen to listen to her sense, to her heart. Tentatively reaching out with the Force Luke could still sense her pain, lingering the air around him, her struggle, her final decision.

And it meant that he hadn't been that wrong about her after all.

But where was she now?

The Force flowed to him the awareness of people awaking in the Ewok village nearby, the intoxication of victory still fresh in those minds, the loss of comrades not less so - and somewhere there she was - her forlorn pain and loss an unmistakable trail to his senses.

And somewhere there was Leia - increasingly frantic - panicking about the brother she'd gained and nearly lost and gotten back from certain death – and now had gone missing again. Painstakingly, Luke started to limp towards the village.

. . .

"Luke!" Leia's choked shriek could have woken the entire village, for all that Luke could see. The walk through the forest had taken its toll and all he wanted was to lie down – the last thing he wanted now was attention - and he had no wish to speak about what had happened, not even with Leia or Han.

But Leia brought all his quiet intentions and hopes to nothing as she threw herself onto him, worriedly letting her finger trail his temple and chin. "Luke! What happened to you! Where have you been? You look awful, your face - what…?"

"I'm fine, Leia." He hadn't anticipatedthat he would be looking as bad as he felt. He knew that Mara had got in some real good punches, some of them in his face, and that his fatigues were ripped and torned, but he'd imagined he could slip into the Ewok village without attracting too much attention.

"Hey kid, what's up?" Han lurched around a hut, spotted him, and immediately donned an expression that told Luke he couldn't have sneaked his new bruises past a blind man. "You looked better after confronting the Emperor. Did you need more beating to be able to sleep or what?"

"It's nothing, really. I'm fine. Just a few scratches." Luke muttered, torn between his tiredness and desperate need for solitude and by the not at all unpleasing fact that he could for the first time ever bask in Leia's tender attention and relax at the same time. This sibling thing had considerable benefits.

"A few scratches!" Leia's voice went up an octave. "You look like you've been run over by a wild bantha! We need to get you to a medbay! Are you sure you haven't broken anything? You're limping, too. And is that blood on your tunic? Take it off, I need to have a look at you! "

Ok, it might have some cons too. "I'm fine, Leia," he tried, but without any hope. If he hadn't been run over by a wild bantha before, he was definitely about to be, because his sister was just warming up.

"Sit down," Leia ordered, exactly as if he hadn't said a word, "I'm getting the nearest med kit." She was up and away before Luke had the energy to stop her. Instead he sank down on a bench, rubbing his eyes. Might as well take the easy way out.

"There ain't no stopping her, you know that," Han shrugged. "Now you're gonna pay for all those lost years of sisterly love when she didn't know you even existed."

"You wish," Luke scowled. "Can't you two get some kids quickly and get me out of her crosshairs?"

Han shrugged easily, but kept his investigative glance running over Luke from head to toe. "Are you ok, kid?"

Luke nodded, stubbornly. "Yeah." Leia came running back, four different half-used med kits stacked in her arms – and behind her, Threepio came shuffling. Luke moaned.

"What happened?" Leia repeated her question as she started to clean his face, the sting of the antiseptic making Luke's face twitch even though it was far less painful than the bruising already there. "Sit still!" she scolded. "I can't see what I'm doing if you turn your face away. You look like you've been wrestling with a gundark!"

Luke groaned. If he told them about Mara… It was such a long story, and it had to be told carefully, because otherwise Leia'd have Mara in the brig, right next door to Shira, and he didn't want that. Mara didn't deserve that, but they wouldn't see it his way...

Mara? In his exhaustion he had almost forgotten about her. "It's nothing, Leia. I'm fine."

She was close; her trail in the Force was thin but sharp - she had to be near now. Luke rose abruptly and started to walk, startled Leia dashing in his wake. "Luke, sit down! What the hell is it now?"

Ignoring her ranting, Luke steered right after the trail, the edge of the village not far by. He peered towards the shuttles and speeders, parked in the clearing down the hill…

And there she was. Huddling on a tree trunk in the high grass, her red hair loose now and glowing in the tentative rays of the morning sun.

Leia paused and squinted. "Isn't that Mara?"

"Yeah." Luke started descending but Leia seized him by grabbing his arm. "Luke! I demand you tell me what's going on! Han, what— ?" Han had grabbed her other hand and now shook his head at her, mouthing something. When Leia stared at him, nonplussed, he nodded first towards Mara, then Luke, mouthing again.

"Just give me a minute, will'ya, " Luke muttered. He humped down the brink, leaving Leia and Han to stare after him.

. . .

The slender figure was still sitting on the stumpat the outskirts of the village when he managed to scramble down to her. The rays of the morning sun played on her cascades of red hair, sprinkling it in sparks of gold. Her air was still, quiet, passive almost – the complete opposite of that explosion of deadly intent he'd encountered just a few hours earlier. Opposite, in fact, to everything he'd seen of her so far. She tilted her head only an inch when he approached, indicating that she'd heard or sensed him but she made no move and didn't turn, not even when he sat down on the trunk beside her, careful not to be too close - nor too far away. All aggression was poured out of her, all hate, all determination. Left was only lingering pain and subdued desperation.

He reached out a hand towards her but stopped it the air over her shoulder and returned it to the trunk. Even now, she wasn't a person you touched without permission or at least very good reason, such as emergency resuscitation.

Luke opened his mouth, having to push to get out the words. "I thought you'd left."

Her voice was low. "Haven't decided where to go yet." And at that he knew – knew that she'd stayed to be sure he came back. That she hadn't wanted him to die. Unable to stay and wait for him to wake up, she had still remained to see that he returned

"I see." He realized he'd chosen the right distance to sit down beside her; close enough to almost be able to put is arm around her - but not close enough so she'd have to fear he'd do it. Together, they stared at the brook that purred through the clearing, nestling its way through the grass and stones. The gliding surface of the current glinted in the sunlight.

"So…" Luke mumbled after a while. "What made you change your mind?"

She didn't answer for a long time. Just turned her glance upwards, to the green foliage where the light gilded the leaves.

"I don't know," she finally murmured. "He ordered me to kill you but… In the end, what would it change? Nothing. He'd still be dead. And I…" She broke off again, considering. When she spoke again, there was a finality to her tone. "I could as well stop it right there."

Which meant that she had on some level made a choice too; chosen to follow a sense of justice and sympathies that Palpatine hadn't installed in her. But Luke was pretty sure this wasn't the moment to point it out. "I'm sorry," he murmured instead.

She turned her head, an edge to her again. "For what? That I didn't kill you?"

Luke shook his head. "No. But for everything else. This stupid mess. That you had to make that choice." He sighed. "'Cos I suppose you'd wanted to comply, hadn't you? Wanted to do the last thing he asked of you?"

She continued to look hard at him for a moment, then her edge dulled again and she quieted, considering. And he could sense her so very clearly, her vulnerable state; her pain almost bristling. It made no sense they were sitting here talking, they, who'd just been in a deadly battle. On the other hand; there wasn't a shield or wall left between them. Not even the faintest suggestion of a defense, not against each other, and not even against themselves. He was weary from all his bruises and shortcomings – and he knew Mara loathed herself at the moment – having him there didn't really make it worse for her. On a strange level it maybe even offered some solace that she probably didn't want but couldn't be bothered to repel.

"I could have," she finally murmured, almost to herself. "If he'd ever, even once, had asked. But he never did. He always commanded. And in the end…" her voice faded away until it was a mere whisper. "In the end I found out he lied to me too. I always believed that I was special, that he only lied to others. Well, I wasn't, I found that out. And that changed something in me, I guess. Not my obedience, but it started to grow a limit. A border of how far I was prepared to go."

"You had no borders before?"

She turned to look at him. "I did what I had to, but allowed myself damage control when possible. With you…" She hesitated. "I suspected you'd be able to sense lies. So everything I told you was…"

"From a certain point of view?" He didn't know why that slipped out of him, but Mara nodded.

"Yeah. That. It's not good, but it's better than nothing. When you can't tell the truth it's at least better than a lie."

Luke nodded, resigning. "I guess. But I couldn't accept it in the long run."

Mara let out a sudden short, hard laugh. "I have no idea what happens now, Skywalker but at last this I know; there will be no long run."

He didn't know why, but he knew he was sorry for that. Very sorry, in fact. More sorry than he at that moment had energy to feel. Luke sighed and closed his eyes. The sunrays on his eyelids made figures of light dance before his closed eyes.

"I don't know why," he told her after long moments, "and I know it might sound weird, but at least I'm glad because somehow, some things finally make sense to me now."

"What things?"

"I never knew why I felt both that I could trust you and should be worried about you at the same time. But that was because your mission was about me, specifically, not a threat towards anyone else. It bothered me, but now I know how it worked. Next time I experience anything like this, I will know what to expect."

She gave him a sideways look. "You think there will be a next time?"

"I can't exactly say I hope for it." He gave her a wry smile, one she returned, however briefly.

They sat together for another silent while. Luke felt suddenly very humble. He realized that this woman had gone through a process very much similar to his own, at the same time as he, and without him knowing about it. Like him, she'd had to confront the undoing of her beliefs and like him, she'd chosen truth instead of her own hopes. But unlike him who had won everything, she had nothing left of her own.

"If the Emperor sent you to kill me, then why did you save my life back at the bulk freighter?" he wondered after a moment.

Mara shrugged. "My orders changed pretty quickly. Already on the Falcon I was told to standby and move into a trusted position."

Luke frowned, remembering Mara's abrasive attitude the entire time. "You didn't take that very literally, did you?"

She shrugged again, voice impassive. "Worked well enough anyway, didn't it? I came close enough to be able to move into killing position anytime. You're far too trusting, Skywalker."

He was, wasn't he? Others had said something similar. Yet, it rang so wrong to Luke here, like had it only been his own gullibility… "Not with all," he insisted. "But with you, yes."

An insect, glinting in green and silver flew pass them, with a humming drone. Luke studied its leisured flying for a moment, then the itch to know grew too strong again. "You were his Hand you say," he asked. "How did you become that? You must have been trained… Where? On Corulag? Carida?"

Mara snorted. "I visited Carida in my early teens. But already then, I was more advanced than most of what the Academy could offer. No, I was brought up on Coruscant, in the Palace."

It took Luke a few moments to digest that information, but with it, the final pieces fell into place. He nodded. "Close to Palpatine."

Mara shuddered. "He was never far away. Even when I was away on training programs or missions, we were in constant contact."

Luke tried to imagine a child in the proximity of the Emperor. He must have shown a quite different visage to Mara than he had to him - or she wouldn't have been sorry at all for his death at all. But Mon Mothma had told him how Palpatine as senator had duped an entire galaxy – the Jedi order included. "Must have been pretty… special."

He could sense a jolt of pain from her and she turned to him, anger flashing through her again. "That's what I thought but…" she broke off again gaze breaking from his surprised stare, looking away, trouble settling over her again.

But for some reason it wasn't hard for Luke to follow her trail of thought – not that it was the first time, somehow Mara's thoughts seemed to stream so close to his own. "Shira! That's why you two never got along! She was a special agent too!"

Mara turned to him like a snake ready to bite. "How did you know that?" she hissed.

Luke swallowed. "Just…a feeling. Her abilities. The Force – you both have received training. And the edge, you have it both somehow." He saw her lift her chin fractionally and realized it had come out the wrong way. He added, truthfully. "But you are different from her. You don't hate. You let your judgment come first, not your emotions." When Mara's eyes narrowed he added, "You proved it tonight."

She opened her mouth to protest, closed it again and returned to look at the brook. Unperturbed by their presence and turmoil, a quadrupedal had come to the water to drink. Some kind of hoofed mammal. It looked around, big, dark eyes wary and ears pointed. Then it lowered its graceful head towards the stream.

Mara shook her head. "Not always," she muttered stiffly. "I made a terrible mistake earlier – one I know for sure I'm going to regret – one I regret already, really."

Luke's heart jumped. Was she regretting she let him live? "Mara… I swear I…"

"I set the snake free, Skywalker." Mara turned to look at him again. "I broke into the detention area and let her out. She was my colleague, or so I reasoned." She shook her head, snorting at herself in contempt. "Huge mistake."

Finally Luke understood. "You set Shira free…" He started to bristle – but even this emotion, righteous though it might be, was too much for him; he simply couldn't hang on to it. Resignation took over again. "Ok. I see," he muttered. "Well, as you say, she was your colleague."

Mara nodded, her resignation mirroring his. "That's what I thought. But she hates me. And she hates you even more. If I won't regret it, you will." She shook her head. "But a least I've warned you now."

"Yeah." For a moment a new, pestering weight settled on Luke's shoulders and with foreboding clarity he could sense the truth in Mara's words. He would regret her deed - and she would too. But done was done. He sighed and resettled on the trunk – not a very good seat, he reflected dryly. Well, at least Mara's action was an action of nobility – if you cared to look at it from an Imperial point of view. And that was the least he could do for her, wasn't it? After all, she had willingly agreed to see his point of view – enough to spare his life.

Another thought struck him. "Last night… You found me through the Force, right?"

Mara nodded and Luke could sense she had a question too. She searched in words for a while. The mammal finishing its drinking and returned to the woods. Finally, "He was really your father, wasn't he?"

Luke nodded, quiet.

"When... did you find out?"

"Bespin."

"Ah." They were silent for yet a while. "Who knows?"

"Han. Leia. I told Han after Aderon. And Leia yesterday – well the night before" Was it only yesterday – it seemed like a lifetime ago? "She's my sister," he added.

That got her head up. "Your sister? But then Vader must be..."

"Her father too, yes." Luke grimaced

"Whoa." Mara glanced uncertainly "How does she take that?"

"Dunno. I think she still denies it. She's happy I'm her brother - but that's all she can take in this far."

Mara nodded, thoughtful. "Yeah. Sometimes you don't have to deal with everything at once. You can cut the truth in pieces. That's really a luxury."

"I guess..." Stilling his inner pain, Luke took a deep breath, filling himself with the Force again – with the living around him and his mind touched the woman beside him again. Like so many times before, she drew him in, filling his perceptions completely.

"Shouldn't you call some guards?" she asked. Every trace of her fury had left her face. Now it was just the face of a young and very sad woman, preparing herself to meet the consequences of a life she probably never really had chosen herself.

Luke followed the traces of her face and thought that he could just sit here and look at it for the rest of his life and be content. He swallowed a lump. "No."

She raised an eyebrow. "Going to turn me in yourself then? You should go to the medbay instead, Skywalker. You look like pudu…"

He smiled slightly. She was probably right – of course she was, Mara always spoke to the matter – that was one of the things he liked about her. And if he was looking half as bad as he felt it had to be a Hutt's posterior to look at … "I'm not going to do it," he told her. "Turn you in, that is. You can leave. And you should, because I won't be able to hold questions off much longer, I'm afraid. Just steal a shuttle and go."

She opened her mouth but shot it again. Her eyes turned very large and very intense as she regarded him for a long while. Finally she asked simply, "Why?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. A life for a life, I guess…"

Should he have told her, at that moment, that he had always trusted her, somehow, and that he only now understood why? That he had known her, in a strange way that was in the Force but that was much more as well, and had done that all the time since their first bickering in the Falcon – perhaps even earlier, when she lay bleeding and beautiful on the barge by the Great Pit of Carkoon.

Was that even the reason? Or was the real reason buried in that strange feeling he had in his stomach when looking into those deep, green eyes?

Or was the reason a third one? That he just knew it to be the right thing to do, to let her go? He truly felt it that way. And at the very moment he was too tired to search the Force for his answer.

"Unless…" he chose his words carefully, not daring to hope. "You could stay, you know."

She let out a short, derisive laugh. "And face trial? You'd have to give me away, Skywalker. It would be your duty.

Luke licked his lips. "Well, you bent your orders concerning me - I suppose I could do it for you."

His voice revealed his conflict and decisively Mara relieved him of it. "Too complicated. You still have superiors to answer to. I don't."

Luke moistened his lips again. They felt dry and sore. "Well, you didn't lie." When she looked at him sharply he added, "Not technically at least."

"But I deceived you – all of you. I withheld information to deliberately give the wrong picture of myself. That's as bad."

"I guess – for us. But it still shows something about you. That you don't do things lightly."

Mara snorted and stared straight ahead again, silence gathering around them once more. And Luke sensed something else: shame. "You know, Skywalker," Mara finally growled. "I just tried to kill you – and now you're sitting here trying very hard to understand my point of view. That's not very healthy! And what you're trying to believe, is just not right. I deceived you – and I sold you out! All of you."

He shook his head. He knew better. "You and Deena…"

Mara interrupted him, eyes hard. "I sold her out, Skywalker! Do you understand? I told the Emperor about that mission she was going on! It was my fault she, they all, almost got killed!" She scowled away into the forest. "Not much of a friendship, do you think?"

Luke opened his mouth to answer but had to close it again, the terrible implications of Mara's words dawning on him. Still, her horrifying confession fit ill with the self-loathing she practically oozed. If she hadn't known Deena was going on that mission… but she must have. There had never been any secrecy about the participants to Wedge's mission… Still, the aim of that operation had been kept secret – Mara couldn't have known anything because no one had known but Wedge and Luke, not even Shira who had known about the gravity convertors… Not even Shira!

A flashback shot through his head:

Shira grinning to Wedge, "Did you, by the way, find that datapad you lost the other day?"

Wedge blushing in embarrassment, "Um, yes. Turned out it was it in Rogues' rec room. Must have slipped out of my pocket. Alarm canceled."

Himself asking, "What datapad?"

What datapad indeed? Wedge always wrote down key information so he could memorize it. Luke voice was toneless, "That datapad – it was you who found it, wasn't it?"

For an instant Mara looked confused. "What datapad?" Then she lit up in understanding. "Oh, that one."

But Luke was sure already. "It wasn't you who took it!"

Mara looked away. "No, it was Brie. But she told me what it said, or parts of it anyway."

"So you knew you were giving Deena away when you told the Emperor?"

"I…No! I didn't" She turned to him again, eyes blazing. "I thought it was you who went to Bothawui - not Deena. But it doesn't matter! Don't you understand! I would have given her away if I'd known too. I had to! It was my job!"

Luke breathed in and out, slowly. But she hadn't. Maybe she would have, but she hadn't. Didn't that count? He didn't know anymore. Everything was in flux right now. Everything. He got a sudden urge to pull her close and kiss her but his head was clear enough to know that was too far out – for several reasons he didn't have the energy to think of now.

A stir in the Force behind him made him turn and glance back towards the village. People were up now, and soon they would start pouring towards the shuttles. Time was up. "Go, now," he told her. "You should hurry, really."

She nodded. Rose.

"May the Force be with you, Mara Jade."

She made a face. "Um. Likewise." With a final glare she turned and walked rapidly towards the shuttles.

Luke followed her slender figure until she disappeared.

T.B.C.


	36. Chapter 36

**Quagmire - Chapter 36 **

**Epilogue**

His legs were shaky when Luke finally set them on the deck of _Home One_ again. Tycho Celchu from behind gave him a concerned glance. "Alright there, boss?"

"I'm all right," Luke replied automatically. Tycho's resigned sigh, wise from several years' experience handling his CO, revealed just how little he bought the claim. Still, he let Luke hobble out of the Y-wing by his own effort, just staying close in case it wasn't enough.

Wedge, first of the Rogues to land, was already approaching with a troop cart. "Here we go. I imagine you prefer this to a med slade, even if it's the med bay we're going to."

Luke pulled a face. "I _can_ walk too, you know."

"Here he goes again," moaned Wes, joining in from behind with Hobbie in tow. His voice took a mocking note, mimicking Luke's. "I'm fine, Vader just cut off my hand but I can still fly the X-wing."

"I'm fine" Hobbie echoed, "the wampa just smashed my head but if I put my helmet on no one will notice."

"I'm fine, I just froze my balls off in a snowstorm but if…"

"Thanks," Luke cut Wes off. "I think we all get the idea." He sank down on the troop chart with a tired moan. "Wedge, if you take me away from those two, you're free to take me anywhere."

"Luke! Wedge! Guys!"

They all turned towards the shout, to see Deena racing towards them. Hobbie sucked in air sharply. "Stang!"

The others pointed odd looks at him, but Hobbie only had eyes for Deena. He rushed up, taking her hands into his. "I'm so sorry," he told her. "Really! So sorry, Deena."

Deena's expression wasn't less puzzled than the others. "What for?" Then she paled too, hand ripping from his and going to her mouth. "Oh gods! No! What happened to her?"

"Well, _Liberty_ was…" Hobbie stopped. "Her?" He frowned, flummoxed, glancing to the others for support.

Wedge moaned, wiping his hand over his jaw. "He missed it. Of course he did. I thought we told _everyone_ last night but apparently not…Hobbs! Corin is _fine_! He was transferred to _Independence_ just before the battle."

Hobbie froze, still holding one of Deena's hands prisoner. "Oh." He stared at the deck, then at Deena again. "Ah. But… that's _good_. Right?"

Deena's expression had shifted several times already between fright, understanding and bewilderment, and now she wrested her remaining hand free so as to plant both of them indignantly on her hips. "You thought Corin was dead?"

"Well, yeah." Hobbie stammered, blushing. "Not that I think he _should _be, just no one told me he wasn't."

Deena melted into a smile as warm and gooey as melted wax. "Oh, Hobbs, and you tried to comfort me! That's so sweet!" She kissed him on the cheek. "But fortunately that wasn't necessary." She looked at the others. "Now, tell me she's all right too."

The Rogues looked at her, then at each other. Only Luke, able to read Deena like an open book, stared at his boots. "Who?" Wedge asked.

"Mara, of course! I haven't seen her since yesterday. She's disappeared completely – I've been looking everywhere for her!"

"Red?" Wes wondered. "No idea. I though she was here on _Home One_!" He looked suddenly worried.

"Well, she was," Deena started to explain, "but then she disappeared. I was hoping she'd left for Endor to join you guys."

"No, haven't seen her." Wedge frowned and Tycho, Wes and Hobbie all started talking over each other as they tried to determine who'd last spotted the subject at hand.

"She's fine," Luke finally broke in. The burgeoning chatter silenced again. Everyone looked at him.

"_You_'ve seen her?" Wes demanded, attempting to seem thrilled but sounding much more disappointed that it had been Luke and not him.

"Or is it some Jedi thing – you can sense her or something?" Wedge jumped in.

Luke sighed. The last thing he wanted to talk about was Mara. What the hells was he supposed to say? But he couldn't really keep his friends in the dark either, particularly not Deena. She was fretting hard enough she might go supernova. "Yeah… No. I mean, I've seen her. We… she came to Endor, just like you guessed Deena, and…we met."

"Well, thank the Force! But why didn't she come back with you?" Deena's relief flashed to bewilderment, then shot straight on to sly. "Or are you saying she'll be coming back with somebody _else_?"

"Er…no." Luke tried to find the right words, but all that would come to mind was how Mara would have snorted at Deena's theory. "No, she's left." When they all continued to stare at him, he elaborated. "Completely. Left us. I mean, the Alliance, that is." _Boy, Skywalker, you silver-tongued wonder, you. _Lamely he added, "She was never that into the cause anyway." He shrugged.

"_Left?_ Without a word?" Deena looked baffled.

"Because of the battle?" Tycho suggested. "Could it have been too much for her?"

Wedge shook his head obstinately. "Not her. She's made of durasteel, that one."

Luke sighed, and leaned back on the troop cart. "No, it wasn't that."

"Then what?" Wedge insisted.

"It's… well, something personal." Luke sighed again. "Listen, Dee, you deserve to get the story – and when you do, you'll understand." He rubbed his eyes, hoping dearly she would.

"Personal?" Wes started to dig. "Between you and her?

Luke groaned. "Trust me, not like _you're_ thinking." Wes and Hobbie were already deep into an eyebrow-bobbing competition.

He was saved from further humiliation because the _Millenium Falcon_ boosted into the hangar and drowned everything else out, landing as elegantly as any X-wing.

"Oh shavit," Wedge muttered. "The Princess _said_ 'medbay – immediately!'" He shot a guilty glance at Luke. "Can you at least lie down?" Luke, rubbing his temples, glared at him.

"Too late, incoming," stated Tycho, in the same tone he'd have used if referring to four squadrons of TIE fighters. The landing ramp was already dropped and Leia's 1.5 meters swept down so fast even Chewie had trouble keeping up, not to mention Han or Lando. If some beautiful faces could launch a thousand ships, Leia's at the moment could have launched a fleet of Star Destroyers with all cannons firing.

She stormed straight to Luke, arms crossed and scowling. "Luke Skywalker! Exactly which part of 'get to the medbay immediately' didn't you understand?"

Only weeks ago, Luke would have been part terrified, part desperately tried to charm himself out of her line of fire – now the knowledge of what they shared, made both unnecessary. Besides, he was too tired to get upset. "The one that said 'ignore your friends, even if they're in distress,'" he replied dryly. "We had some catching up to do."

Leia's eyebrows arched, taking the concept of royal disapproval to brand-new heights, but she knew when she had to change guns. "Well, if we're changing information, Ihave some for _you_; Shira Brie has escaped."

"What?" five shocked voices cried out in unison.

"Sad but true," Han confirmed grimly, coming up from behind. "We just got it from Mon herself."

Leia crossed her arms. "And that's not all. According to the holocams, the one who helped her escape was no one else than – Mara Jade." She spun on Luke again. "_Now_, do you care to tell me what happened between you two?"

Luke shook his head. "It's a long story," he insisted, "and you told me yourself I need to go to the medbay. I think it's about time."

"Listen, brother –"

Luke leaned forward, pointing. "You told me to go there yourself. _Before_ I give any reports, you said. Besides, Mara's gone now."

"If she's a danger to the Alliance…"

"She's not. Not anymore."

"Luke…!"

"Kid…"

"Are you sure?" Lando put it. The hope in his voice wasn't very hard to detect.

"Positive," Luke assured him. "I wouldn't be standing here otherwise." He glanced to Wedge. "Can we hit the road now? I have this increasing ache in my ribs…"

Leia assumed battle stance – one hand planted on her hip and eyes glaring vibroblades – but Han wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Ok – go – but don't dive into bacta just yet, junior. Your sister needs some kind of explanation before you dip."

For a moment Leia looked as if she was about to retort, but when Luke nodded agreement, she too sighed and accepted Han's diplomatic effort. "All right, then. Go. But we'll be there shortly – and _then_ there will be no escape for you."

Tycho scratched his head. "Somebody needs to explain to me this 'brother – sister' thing. You were going on all last night. Some joke on Endor I missed?"

Luke glanced to Leia. He quirked an eyebrow mischievously, and this time Leia had to smile. "All right, bro – get going." She stepped to him and gave him a big kiss on the forehead, brushing his hair out of the way. Then she turned to Tycho. "Now, _that_ story…"

Luke prodded Wedge, who started the troop cart, heading for the med bay. They only got a few meters before Deena came running and jumped onto the chart. "You're kidding, right? You're not really siblings?"

Luke grinned sheepishly. "We are, actually."

"Wow. You have to tell me all about that." Deena breathed deep. "But first; tell me about Mara!"

Luke did his best to keep the story as short as possible without omitting anything vital. Still, when they arrived at the medbay, Deena was staring stubbornly straight ahead. She had, miraculously, listened without interruption almost the whole way, but Deena being Deena, that state of affairs couldn't last forever. "She was tricked!" she insisted. "She might have told the Emperor we were going to Bothawui but that was because Shira made her think it was _your_ mission – and you were her target so she _had_ to! But she wouldn't have sold _me_ out – not on purpose!"

Luke sighed. "Listen, Dee – we don't know that." He shook his head, tired and Mara's self-accusations still livid in his memory. "Hell, she probably doesn't even know herself."

Deena shook her head. "Oh, we do. Some things, you just_ know_."

Wedge snickered. "Listen and learn, Jedi."

Luke whacked the back of his head half-heartedly, but Deena was adamant. "You said yourself she wasn't a danger – and she proved that by sparing your life last night. Well, already before that, she wasn't a danger to the rest of us – only to you. The fire, remember? She saved countless lives there!"

"True – but she was the Emperor's Hand. If he'd commanded her to something, she'd have done it – she said that herself! And she was ashamed, Dee, I'm not making it up..."

"But what was she ashamed of? That she would have sold me out – or that she's not sure she'd obeyed him after all?"

Luke blinked. Deena could be more clear-eyed than anyone in her purehearted logic. And he _wanted_ to believe she was right. _Wanted_… Yearned was more like it. With a sting he wondered when it had become so important to him. Wondered when _Mara_ had become so important to him...

Wedge helped him off the troop chart and to the bed that was offered to him by a nurse droid. With a quiet moan, Luke leaned back on the pillows. Too-onebee appeared beside his bed, ready to start its examination. For having an immobile face, it nonetheless did a good imitation of a conscientious doctor exasperated by a rash patient who'd landed in the medbay for the umpteenth time.

Wedge patted him on the shoulder. "You slip off to bacta. We'll explain it to Leia. Don't worry."

Luke shook his head. "No, I really should tell her myself. I have to."

"Please, Luke. Dee and me can tell her enough to tide her over. She'll be fine. After all, it's your wellbeing she's thinking of."

Luke had to smile. Leia – his _sister_… No matter what had happened, what would happen – he had a family now. Friends – _and_ family.

And Mara… She belonged in there too. All these weeks when he had hardly noticed, she had slipped inside his barriers – she felt so natural beside him now that her vanishing from his life didn't feel real. Maybe Deena was right – maybe she had been more what they thought her to be, more even than what she thought herself to be?

He'd have to find out. But that would be when the galaxy started spinning right way up again – right now, every single muscle in his body seemed to hurt and ache. Luke closed his eyes in exhaustion. He would think about this – Mara, Leia, Shira, his father – all of it, tomorrow. He'd had his fill now. He could take nothing more. For the first time in his life he honestly thought he deserved a break - the galaxy would have to wait for him this time. Dimly, he was aware that Wedge and Deena had backed off, leaving him to Too-onebee's competent sensors, but he hardly registered it.

Luke closed his eyes, weary beyond sensation.

And still, somehow, the galaxy seemed a much more wonderful place than before.

*fin*

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**Author's note**:

Well, folks, that's all for part 1. There's more to come, but while I know exactly what will happen with the big four, I'll need some time to sort out the subplots and, eventually, to write. I also hope to be able to finish some of the viggies that have come to mind mind of late.

I want to thank fabulous **frodogenic** who's been betaing me continuously for 1½ year now – give her a cheer 'cos I can never thank her enough! This fic would be but a shadow of itself if not for her! Special mention also goes to **blank101** for support and first aid and **cat's cradle**; my technician and chemistry consultant.

When I start to post part 2, I will post a new chapter here, so those of you interested can get the notice. But this far; thank you for the ride! You've been an amazing audience; some of you silent numbers in the stats, many of you voicing yourselves and encouraging me beyond what words can express! Thank you!

~Kataja


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